


Bizarre Love Triangle

by ficmuse



Series: Bizarre Love Triangle [1]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Angst and Humor, F/M, Family Secrets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-14
Updated: 2017-03-23
Packaged: 2018-10-05 03:02:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 60,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10295987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ficmuse/pseuds/ficmuse
Summary: When Jughead stumbles upon the yearbook from the Class of 1991, secrets are revealed that will forever alter how the teens of Riverdale view their parents.In this story, Jughead and Betty are involved in a sexual, romantic relationship. If you don't like that idea, this is not the fic for you.Set after 1x7.





	1. Bizarre Love Triangle

Jughead thought that living at Archie’s house was really weird. He had spent a lot of time there, over the years, but there was something strikingly different about living there. Lots of questions, about what he wanted, where he was going, what he was doing. The first few days were awkward; sleeping on Archie’s floor was a little too much togetherness for his liking. So after a private conversation with Fred, Jughead moved into Mary’s old office.

Archie’s mom was not a topic of conversation in this house. Jughead couldn’t remember Archie even saying her name since she left for Chicago. Which was hard; Mary had been one of Jughead’s favorite people. Mary, a professional writer by trade, had been the first adult to see potential in him. She was the one who had convinced him that he could be a writer, too.

Mary was the one who had given him so many of the books that had shaped who he was. She’d presented him with his first blank journal and a fancy pen to go with it. His laptop had been a sweet sixteen present, given shortly before she left town.

Mary’s home office, where she had done all of her writing, was the perfect place for Jughead to sit and do his own work. Her large desk stretched along the length of one wall. There was enough space for a computer as well as a separate area to spread out books and do research. The room still smelled faintly of her patchouli perfume. The blank bulletin board above the desk was now filled with his own story ideas, written on index cards. The fold out couch provided the most comfortable bed he'd had in a long time.

On a bookshelf next to the desk were more writing tools: books on writers markets, style guides, the Oxford English Dictionary. The complete series of Josh and Jessica books, a young adult detective series Mary had written, was on the bottom shelf. On the middle shelf was a bright purple boom box with a dual cassette player. Jughead was amused by this relic of the past. On further investigation, he found a dusty black zippered case in the closet, filled with about fifty cassette tapes. There were mostly mix tapes, with handwritten track listings.

Many of them were written in familiar handwriting. The first one that he spotted was in his father’s bold scrawl: BIZARRE LOVE TRIANGLE. A triangle symbol with a heart inside it had been written before and after the title.

His eyes scanned the names of the artists on the cassette. Alternative bands of the 80s and 90s: New Order; The Smiths; The Cure; Siouxsie and the Banshees; Social Distortion. He carefully placed the tape into the old radio and it began to play.

_Every time I think of you I feel shot right through with a bolt of blue...._

He had a flicker of a memory from childhood. They had been having shakes at Pop’s, he and Archie on one side of a booth, with his dad and Mary on the other side of the booth. Archie’s mom had reached up and tucked a piece of FP's hair behind his ear. The cassette that FP had made for Mary...it was all love songs.

The office closet had a lot of junk in it. A large footlocker in the bottom, when opened, revealed a stack of composition books, years and years worth of old journals. A quick flip revealed that they were Mary’s. There was a metal cashbox, locked. A black leather jacket, meticulously studded and painted. On the back was the same symbol, the triangle with a heart in the middle. At the very bottom was a pile of high school yearbooks. The top one was 1991.

Jughead found his father in the senior section. He had a small hoop in one eyebrow; his dark hair was shorn close on one side, hanging below his shoulder on the other. The smile that he was giving the camera was the same one that Jughead remembered, from the good days. Around his neck, he wore a black leather cord, with one pearl hanging from it.

He read the inscription below his dad’s photo.

Forsythe Pendleton Jones Jr.

“FP”

Blue and Gold 9, 10, 11, 12

Varsity Football 10, 11, 12

JV Football 9

Literary Magazine Staff 9, 10, 11

Literary Magazine Co-Editor, 12

 _.........I feel shot right through..._.

He couldn’t remember what Mary’s maiden name had been, but she had graduated the same year that his dad had. He was flipping through when a familiar face caught his eye. Betty. But, of course, it wasn’t Betty at all. It was her mother, Alice.

Alice Elizabeth Smith

“Allie”

Blue and Gold 9, 10, 11

Blue and Gold Editor-In-Chief 12

Varsity Field Hockey 11, 12

JV Field Hockey 9, 10

Literary Magazine Staff 9, 10, 11, 12

_........With a bolt of blue...._

Betty looked exactly like Alice had as a teenager. As a high school senior, Alice had sea foam green hair that cascaded well below her shoulders. Her clear blue eyes were outlined in thick black eyeliner that curled up at the corners. Her smiling mouth was adorned with green lipstick that matched her hair. Around her neck was a black leather cord with a pearl, just like FP’s.

What the fuck. Alice Cooper had once... had some semblance of a personality.

With some more turning of pages, he found Archie’s mom. Mary Andrews, it turned out, had once been...Mary Blossom. She was next to her twin, Clifford. Was everyone in this town related to each other?

Mary Margaret Blossom

“Call Me Ishmael”

Blue and Gold 9, 10, 11, 12

Drama 9, 10, 11, 12

Debate Society 9, 10, 11, 12

Literary Magazine Staff 9, 10, 11

Literary Magazine Co-Editor 12

_......Every time I think of you...._

Teenage Mary looked startlingly like Cheryl Blossom, who must actually be her niece. She had the same sweep of bright red hair, and her mouth was outlined in the same fiery red that Cheryl favored. Around her neck was another black leather and pearl necklace.

Never in his entire life had Jughead heard anyone discuss a connection between the Blossoms and the Andrews. But it seemed that Jason Blossom had been Archie’s first cousin, and Cheryl was too. Their parents had a lot of secrets. As far as he knew, FP and Alice had never even had a conversation with each other. But they had worked together on the student newspaper for years; had been close friends, once. Maybe even more.

Jughead rewound the tape and played the first track again. It was New Order’s _Bizarre Love Triangle_. The song began:

 _Every time I think of you_  
_I feel shot right through with a bolt of blue_  
_It's no problem of mine_  
_But it's a problem I find_  
_Living a life that I can't leave behind..._

That was the senior quote that the three of them had chosen. Had they been involved in a real love triangle or was it just an inside joke? The answer probably lay in the journals that were in Mary’s trunk.

The notion that his dad may have once dated Archie’s mom, and maybe even Betty’s too, was troublesome. It seemed somehow disloyal to Jughead’s own mother. But he knew his dad hadn’t even met his mom until he was in college at Cornell. His mother had still been in high school when they met in Ithaca. When FP’s knee blew out and he lost his football scholarship, Gladys had come back with him to Riverdale.

If Jughead were smart, he’d put the yearbook and the tape away and pretend he’d never seen them. After all, there was no way any of these secrets, from over twenty-five years ago, had anything to do with Jason Blossom’s death. Digging into the past would cause nothing but trouble.


	2. Kiss Them For Me

_Nothing or no-one will ever_  
_Make me let you down_

_-Siouxsie and the Banshees_

That night at Pop’s, Archie and Veronica, Betty and Jughead, were settled into their usual booth.

“Is something wrong, Juggy?” Betty looked over at him with concern. “You’ve barely eaten anything."

Jughead looked down at his nearly untouched burger and fries. “I’m just thinking about something.”

“The murder investigation?” asked Veronica.

“No.” Jughead took a bite of his burger and set it down. “Something else.”

Betty put her fingers on his wrist. “Something’s bothering you.”

“Considering everything else that’s going on, getting worked up over this is stupid. I just...don’t know what it means.”

Archie leaned forward, his brow furrowed. “If there’s a problem, you know we’ll help you solve it. Anything.”

“Well, this isn’t just my problem. It involves all of us. Except for Veronica.” Jughead opened up his bag and pulled out the yearbook. “This is your mom’s, Archie. I wasn’t trying to snoop. I found it in her office.” He slid it across the table towards his friend.

Veronica picked it up. “That’s mom’s senior yearbook! I haven’t seen it in years. Daddy was already away at Yale, but Mom is everywhere in this thing.” She flipped to the back and found photos of the cheerleaders. “Look, there she is.”

Hermione Lodge was caught in action, performing a split in mid air on the sidelines of a football game.

“You look so much like your mom,” said Archie. “This was Dad’s senior year, too.” He flipped to the senior section and pointed out his dad. “He had a lot more hair, then!”

Veronica and Archie laughed. “I still can’t wrap my head around the two of them dating,” said Veronica.

“Then or now?” asked Archie.

“Either? Both?”

“You know, I never really thought about...how incestuous this town can be. But high school romance, that’s kind of the issue here.” Jughead took the yearbook and showed the other three the pictures of Alice, F.P. and Mary.

“So you’re a Blossom?” asked Veronica. She nudged Archie with one elbow. “You have a secret trust fund somewhere?”

Archie shook his head. “My mom was disowned when she married my dad. Cut off without a penny, since the family disapproved. She didn’t even go to the funeral, when her parents passed away. As far as I know, she hasn’t spoken to any of the Blossoms in years.”

Betty took the yearbook and flipped back to the picture of Alice. “Wow. I would say that this couldn’t possibly be my mother...but just look.”

“I guess your mom wasn’t always wired so tight,” said Jughead.

“This girl...she looks like someone we would have been friends with,” said Betty. She traced her mother’s picture, her eyes sad. “I wonder when she changed from this person into who she is now.”

Jughead shook his head. “I wonder the same thing about my dad.”

Betty looked over at Jughead. “So, if our parents used to date...” She looked upset.

Veronica leaned forward. “Look, this is ancient history. It doesn’t change anything, about what the two of you are to each other now. It just doesn’t.”

Archie nodded. “Even if our parents dated each other in high school, so what? It was a decade or more before any of us were even born.”

“You’re right,” Betty said softly. “Of course, you’re all exactly right.”

The four parted ways shortly afterwards. Jughead and Betty held hands and walked in silence to her house. He leaned down to kiss her goodnight. She met his lips, in the briefest of touches, and pulled away.

“The yearbook, it doesn’t change anything. You know that, right?” said Jughead.

Betty nodded, but bit her lip. “I know that.” Her voice was uncertain.

“Hey. Everything will be okay.” He wrapped her into his arms. Her chin rested under his, and he smelled the sweet scent of her hair.

“Can you stay with me tonight? Just until I fall asleep?” she whispered.

“Of course.”

Betty went in through the front door. Jughead waited by the basement door until it opened. Betty stepped back into the darkness, her finger to her lips. He took off his shoes and hand-in-hand they walked through the quiet house.

When the door closed to her bedroom, Betty pulled him close and kissed him deeply. Jughead’s heart began to race as she tilted her head and swept her tongue in his mouth. Their tongues touched and swirled together.

She took one of his hands and slid it under her shirt. Her skin was smooth and silky under his fingers. He rubbed his hand along her spine, across her back, moving in circles trying to soothe her, calm her.

They kissed for a long, long time before Betty broke away from him and pulled her shirt over her head.

Jughead looked at her, pale and beautiful in the moonlight. Her bra covered her breasts. She turned away from him. “Can you unfasten my bra for me?” She swept her hair over one shoulder, leaving her bra strap bared.

Jughead cleared his throat. “I don’t actually know how.”

“Just undo the little metal hooks.”

His hands were shaking. It took several tries before he was able to do it. First one hook; then the second; and then the third. The straps fell away from each other, and Betty pulled the bra off and tossed it aside.

Jughead stared at her bare back. Her shoulders were straight. He could hear her breathing, his breathing. It sounded liked they were running a marathon.

He leaned forward and kissed the back of her neck. She sighed, and he kissed her more. He slid his hands around her waist. He trailed his hands up her chest, feeling her skin. He stopped short of her breasts and just waited. Waited, listening to her breath, his, the sound they made together.

She placed her hands over his and moved them up until his hands cupped her breasts.

Jughead stopped breathing. Her breasts were heavy and full in his hands. She was warm and soft and perfect.

“Juggie,” she whispered.

He ran his fingers over her breasts. He felt her nipples tighten as his thumbs crossed them. Betty made the sweetest little gasp. She liked this. He was doing okay.

He turned her to face him and kissed her. Something had changed. There was a darker feel to these kisses. Something primal. Something raw.

He picked her up in his arms and placed her on the bed. She looked at him, her lips soft and swollen.

“I have no idea what I’m doing,” he confessed. He stripped off his jacket and put his hat on her bedside table. With a swift motion, he pulled off both sweater and t-shirt, leaving his chest bared. “But I want more.”

“I want more, too,” she echoed, and reached out towards him.

He came into her arms and their bare chests met. He cried out with the pleasure of it, of skin on skin. She wrapped her arms around him, pressing him close. Their mouths moved together, seeking to be as close to each other as possible. One of her hands slipped into the back of his jeans, pressing his pelvis against hers.

He had to touch her, too. He broke the kiss and slid down her chest. He kissed one breast, then the other. She moaned and twisted her fingers in his hair. Carefully, he sucked one nipple into his mouth.

He was pleasing her. She was moaning and moving and gripping him with her hands, as if she never wanted him to stop. He would have to stop, and soon, but not yet. He needed to please her. He wanted to be the one to make her moan, to make her writhe like this.

He moved his hand to the zipper of her pants. “Please,” he said softly.

She unfastened her zipper and lifted her hips. He slid off the jeans, leaving her covered only by her white cotton panties. She slid out of them, too, and suddenly was utterly naked, beneath him.

“Tell me when to stop,” he said.

She nodded and bit her lip, her eyes wide.

He’d read a lot. He’d imagined this. But having his hands on Betty, having her watch him, while he touched her, was something completely new.

He found her entrance, and she was wet. That was good. He slid in one finger, and she moaned. That was even better. He found a rhythm, and kept adding fingers and moving until, all at once, Betty froze. She looked up at him, her eyes wide, and her mouth open. She was going to scream.

He covered her mouth with his just as she exploded.

She pulled away from him. “Oh my God.”

“Was that...good?” he asked hesitantly.

She kissed him and her enthusiasm indicated that she had, indeed, enjoyed herself.

She reached for his belt, but he closed his hand over hers. “I just want to make you happy,” he said.

“You did.”

“I want to do it again.” So, he did. Watching her, seeing how he could make her moan, make her come was the best feeling in the world. He felt strong, powerful, in how he could make her respond.

He didn’t dare take his pants off. If he did, he’d want to make love to her, and they couldn’t. There were so many reasons why they couldn’t. It was hard to remember any of them right now. So all he could do was focus on her.

He moved down to the edge of the bed. “Do you trust me?” he asked her.

“Completely,” she answered.

He pushed her thighs apart and buried his face between them. It was the most overwhelming feeling that he had ever had. His mouth was flooded with the taste of her. Her hands were clenched in his hair. She was moaning his name, moving underneath him. He licked harder, faster, responding to the urgency of her cries.

She was getting close, panting, moving, when he felt her hand pressed against him. Through the denim of his jeans, she gripped his erection. Her fingers traced the curve of his length; a brush of her thumb caressed the head. He lost control, and his hands gripped her hips hard as he came. His orgasm was overwhelming, so fierce it ripped through him like wildfire.

She came close behind him, screaming. “Oh God! Oh God!” Her body arched backwards. Jughead scrambled up the bed and pressed a hand over her mouth as she screamed again. Her body was shaking; her head was thrown back as she came.

Down the hall, a door slammed. They both froze.

“Oh God,” Betty whispered.

Jughead scrambled out of bed, grabbed her bathrobe from the back of the door and shoved it at her.

Betty kicked her discarded clothes under the bed and wrapped the robe around her body. She climbed into bed and pulled the covers over herself.

Jughead grabbed his clothes and hat and dived under the bed just as the lights came on.

“What’s going on in here?” It was Betty’s mother, her voice as clipped and cold as ice.

“I had a bad dream, Mommy.” Betty sounded like she had when she was small, a sweet little voice that made Jughead feel both nostalgic and perverted.

Alice sat down on the bed. The springs moved perilously close to Jughead’s face. He tried not to breathe, not to move in any way. “You’re all flushed.”

“I think I have a fever.”

“I’ll get you some aspirin and a glass of water.” She left, closing the door behind her.

Jughead climbed out from under the bed. “There is nothing on earth scarier than your mom,” he whispered.

“If she catches you in here, we are both dead,” whispered Betty.

Jughead leaned forward and kissed her. He pulled on his shirt and sweater. “I’m hiding in the closet until she goes back to bed.” He grabbed his shoes on his way into the closet and shut the door.

Jughead sat there in silence, behind the row of Betty’s clothes, as he listened to Betty’s mom take her temperature, give her Tylenol, and then a sleeping pill. Betty protested; her mother insisted.

By the time that Jughead heard the master bedroom door close, and had counted off fifteen long minutes, Betty was fast asleep in bed.

He bent down and kissed her forehead. “I love you, Betty Cooper.” He crept through the house, silently, and out the basement door.

He made it into the Andrews house without any problem. He remembered to skip the creaky step and opened the door to Mary’s office.

Fred Andrews was sitting in the desk chair, facing the door. His arms were crossed. He looked pretty pissed off.

“In the morning, we are going to have a very long conversation about responsibility, Mr. Jones.”


	3. How Soon Is Now?

_You shut your mouth_  
_How can you say_  
_I go about things the wrong way?_  
_I am human and I need to be loved_  
_Just like everybody else does_

_-The Smiths_

The breakfast table the next morning was quiet. Archie looked back and forth between his dad and Jughead, his brow furrowed.

“Is there something going on I should know about?” Archie asked.

“Not at all, son,” Fred said smoothly. “I’m driving the two of you to school. I’ve got a little business in the principal’s office.”

At the high school, Jughead got out of the car and went to walk away. “Not so fast,” said Fred. “You’re coming to the office with me.”

In the principal’s office, Fred pulled a folded document from the inside of his jacket pocket. “We need to update Jughead’s school record,” he told the secretary. “I’m his legal guardian, until he turns eighteen. Please update the address. It’s the same information you have on file for Archie Andrews.”

She took the document and went off to make a photocopy.

“Jughead, this is more than a piece of paper. You need to understand that. Until you are a legal adult, everything you do is my responsibility. You mess up, and I’m the person that gets called. You understand that?”

“I do,” Jughead agreed.

“Do you still have some of your stuff downstairs? Archie said you were staying in the janitor’s office or something.”

“I’ll show you.”

Fred helped Jughead pack up his meager belongings. He sat down on the cot and looked at Jughead. “Look, I don’t have a lot. But what I have, is yours. I know you have a dad. I’ll never take FP’s place and I know that. But from here on out, I have two sons, not one. I take that seriously, Juggie.”

Jughead hugged him, hard. “Thank you.”

“So, I know you have a Blue and Gold meeting after school. You tell Betty, meeting is cancelled today. I want the two of you to meet Hermione and I after school back at the house. Don’t mention it to Archie, or Veronica, for that matter. Got it?”

“Is this about last night?”

“You mean, when I watched you sneak across the Coopers’ front lawn and into my house, just before dawn? Good guess.”

****

“Do you know what they want to talk to us about?” Betty and Jughead walked to the Andrews house after school.

“I’m guessing something... birds and bees related.”

She looked over at him, her eyebrows raised. “You’re joking.”

“Why else would Hermione and Fred want to see just the two of us? No Archie, no Veronica?”

She chewed on her lip. “Do you think they are going to tell my mom and dad?”

“No, I don’t think Fred would do that.”

******

Hermione and Fred sat with Jughead and Betty at the kitchen table. “So, I don’t know what your relationship status with Betty is, Jughead,” Fred said, “but the fact that you were in her bedroom all night tells me everything that I need to know.”

“We know what teenagers are like,” said Hermione. “We used to be them ourselves. God knows, some of us got into a whole lot of trouble in this town.”

“We would like to prevent you two from getting into the same kind of trouble,” said Fred.

“I’m not breaking up with Betty,” said Jughead.

Betty took his hand in hers and squeezed hard. “If you feel like you need to tell my parents, go ahead. But I’m not breaking up with Jughead, either.”

Hermione blinked. “No, that’s not what this is about. We’re not here to hurt you. We are here to help you, so you can make safe choices.”

Fred nodded. “We’re talking about sex, guys. Unplanned pregnancies, they can throw off the whole rest of your life. We don’t want to see that happen, to either of you.”

There was a long, awkward silence. “We know about safe sex,” said Jughead. “I mean we haven’t had....” His voice trailed off and he looked at Betty. She was flushed bright red and staring down into her lap.

“Good,” said Hermione briskly. “Because it’s easy to get carried away in the heat of the moment. There’s nothing wrong with sex, in a committed relationship. But you have to be smart.” She leaned forward. “Betty, I would like to take you to the free clinic in Rockland. Condoms aren’t perfect. Accidents happen. You need a back up plan, and the doctor can help you decide on one.”

“The hard truth is,” said Fred, “Hermione and I have had the experience of taking someone we cared about to Rockland to have an abortion. It’s a lot easier to prevent a pregnancy than to make that decision.”

“Or to carry a baby to term and then give it up,” said Hermione. “Fred and I, we had friends that went through that, too. We don’t want to see you kids repeat our mistakes.”

“Normally I would leave it to your parents to tell you about this and help you decide the right thing to do,” said Fred.

“But your parents aren’t up to the task,” said Hermione. “I’m sorry if that’s harsh.”

“No, you’re absolutely right,” said Betty. She steeled her shoulders and met Hermione’s gaze. “I’m not willing to wind up like Polly. Let’s go to Rockland.”

Hermione nodded.

“Can you please just, give us a minute alone?” asked Jughead.

Fred and Hermione went into the other room.

“I’m sorry,” said Jughead. “I mean, this is so private and personal.” He met her eyes. “I mean, it’s totally presumptuous. I don’t even know if you want to....”

Betty kissed him, her hand cupping his cheek. “If you’d let me, I would totally have had sex with you last night.”

He swallowed, hard. “Wow.”

She kissed him again. “I would like to have sex with you. Soon. If you’re ready.”

She was so sweet and soft and his. She was his. “Betty, I want you to know that I love you.”

She smiled, her eyes mischievous. “Because of the sex?”

“With or without the sex.”

“Can I call you my boyfriend now?”

He smiled. “Whatever label you want.”

******

“So, if you’ve got a steady girl, you need some steady money,” said Fred.

Jughead nodded. “I’m working on that. I’m between jobs, since the drive in closed.”

“I know manual labor’s not your thing; you’re an intellectual guy. But you can pick up some extra cash working for me.”

“I’d like that.” They shook on it.

They walked behind the house to the garage. “Now, I’ve had a hard time figuring out what to do with this. Your dad was in need of some cash, so he sold it to me. But I didn’t feel right, driving it around town.” He pulled aside a tarp and revealed a black convertible Mustang.

“Wow!” Jughead ran his hand along the side door. “I remember this car, from when I was a little kid.”

“Your dad needed cash when Jellybean was born,” said Fred. “So I bought it. But it’s not my style. And this car was so much a part of your dad’s life. We spent all of high school in this car together. I couldn’t bear to sell it.” He clapped Jughead on the shoulder. “And now? I think this would be perfect for you. Take your girl on a date. Get to a job. Pretty soon, use it to check out colleges.”

Jughead hugged Fred. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

Fred smiled. “So, you know how to drive?”

“I’ve been driving since I was twelve,” Jughead admitted.

“You got a license?”

“Nope.”

“Then let’s go to Rockland and get you one.”

*****

That evening, Jughead and Betty were in the kitchen at the Andrews house, eating ice cream sundaes. In one day, Jughead had gained a license, a car and a girlfriend. On the list of great days in his life, this was near the top.

Betty, however, had not had such a great day. “So, I had my first gynecological exam. That’s...not so fun.”

He patted her hand. “Did it hurt?”

She tilted her head. “Well, a little. The exam broke my hymen. I technically lost my virginity today.”

Jughead’s bite of ice cream went down the wrong way. He choked. Betty banged on his back and eventually he could breathe again. “I’m sorry,” he wheezed.

“It’s kind of funny, kind of annoying. Definitely not the romantic moment I envisioned.” Betty pulled a little box out of her purse. “So, these are my birth control pills.” She showed him the little metallic card. “One a day, every day.”

“How soon do they start working?”

“It takes a week,” Betty explained. “So, in seven days we can do whatever you want. I can lose my virginity to something other than a metal medical appliance.”

He smiled. “Well, I think we should talk about that a bit.”

She smiled back at him. “Okay.”

He took a deep breath. “So, you’re the first girl I’ve ever kissed.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Really?”

“Yes.” He took a bite of ice cream. “You’re the only girl I’ve ever kissed, because you’re the only person I’ve ever wanted to kiss.”

“Like in your whole life?”

“Yeah.”

“So you’ve never had a crush on anyone?”

“Just you.”

“How long?”

“Have I liked you? Since fourth grade. Fantasized about kissing you? Since I was thirteen, more or less.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You’ve been in love with Archie your whole life. I’m his best friend. It wouldn’t have been cool.” He shrugged. “Frankly, it still doesn’t feel cool. I feel like I’ve taken something that doesn’t belong to me.”

“I don’t belong to anyone,” said Betty. “I belong to me.”

“I know that, intellectually,” said Jughead. “I’m talking about feelings.” He shook his head. “I’m terrible at talking about feelings, Betty.”

“Well, you can show me how you feel, instead.”

“Well, that’s an additional layer of problems.” He looked at her. “I’m weird. I know I’m weird. I’ve had people tell me my whole life that I’m weird.”

“I like your weird.”

“You may not like this part of my weird.” He took a deep breath. “This is super hard to talk about.”

Betty took his hand and held it. “It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me now. There’s no rush.”

“I’m afraid that you’ll think I’m crazy, or that you’ll be mad at me. Or that you won’t want to be with me any more.” The words tumbled from his mouth. That was, in fact, his greatest fear: that he would show her his innermost self, and she would turn away.

She looked at him. “Finish your sundae. We’ll go for a walk. We can talk, or not. Okay?”

Armed with two large flashlights, they headed out into the dark. Betty walked purposefully and Jughead followed. He recognized the route they were taking; he’d walked this way hundred of times.

“You’re taking me to my old house,” said Jughead.

They rounded the corner and there it was. The old Jones place, which his dad had inherited from his parents. It had been foreclosed upon years ago, and his family had moved to the trailer park. The house was for sale again, the real estate sign swinging in the front yard.

Betty led him in a wide circle around the property, entering through the vacant lot behind it, and he realized what her goal was. They were headed for his old tree house, at the very back of the yard. It still stood, seemingly as solid as ever. Betty climbed the ladder and went inside. Jughead followed.

It was clean and well cared for. The previous owners had kept the house in better condition than the Jones family had left it.

“The last time I was in here, I had a tea party with Jellybean and her stuffed animals,” said Betty.

Jughead smiled. “I remember that. I had to carry the porcelain tea set up here, piece by piece, so it wouldn’t get broken.”

Jughead leaned against the wall of the tree house. Betty curled up against him. They sat there, in the dark, entwined together. From the window of the tree house, they could see the stars.

“My mom and dad were really in love, once,” said Jughead. “I’ve seen old home movies, of when they got married. When I was a baby. They were just great together. I knew that I would never love anyone like that. I just...wasn’t made for it. I didn’t care about girls. Or boys, for that matter. My friends, like Archie, they told me about their first kisses, first dates. But I never wanted anyone, until one day, I wanted you.”

Betty kissed the palm of his hand and held it tight.

“The way I felt about you, it was unexpected. Inconvenient. Of all the people in this world, my heart had chosen the one person I could never have. Everyone in the whole town knows that Betty Cooper loves Archie Andrews. We’ve all known, since kindergarten, that the two of you were inevitable. But I couldn’t stop loving you. It was this...fierce, painful thing that just...choked me. I’d be sitting in English class and the light would hit your face and I just couldn’t breathe. You’d laugh and I would hear it in my ears, hours later. In a roomful of faces, I would only see yours.” He kissed the top of her head. “Being with you, kissing you, touching you. It’s just made it all worse. I think about you all the time. I want to be with you all the time.”

“I feel that way about you too.” Betty turned in his arms and kissed him. His heart soared with happiness.

“I love you so much. But I know you still love Archie.”

“I always thought Archie would be my forever.”

God, it hurt to hear. He blinked. Don’t cry in front of her, please God. No.

“But no one knows me the way you do, Jughead. I need you and you need me.” She kissed him then, and he lost control. He kissed her, hard, and he could feel the tears rolling down his cheeks.

“Oh, sweetheart. Don’t cry.” He was kissing her and crying, and he was unable to stop either.

“I’m afraid,” he blurted out.

“Afraid of me?” Betty asked.

“I’m afraid that I’ll show you who I am, and it won’t be enough for you. I’m afraid that I’ll unpack all the pieces of you in my heart, and show them to you. I’m afraid that you’ll break my heart, and I won’t know how to put it back together.”

She wrapped her arms around him. He wrapped his arms around her. He realized that she was crying, now, herself. “That’s just how I feel. That’s exactly how I feel.”

He held her as she cried, her tears soaking his shirt. “I would never hurt you, Betty.”

“If you knew all my secrets you might not even like me.”

“There are no secrets you could have that would change how I feel about you.”

She took a deep, steady breath. “My internship was kind of hell on earth. I was really stressed out about being away from home. The city made me nervous. I was so freaked out about meeting Toni Morrison that I couldn’t sleep. I stayed up for three days straight. My roommate called the RA, and they took me to the campus clinic.” She took a deep breath. “My mom told me I have ADHD, and I’ve been on medication, Adderall, for years. But it turns out that I don’t have ADHD; I have bipolar disorder. And I’m pretty sure that my mom and my sister do too.”

“Okay,” said Jughead carefully. “So you have a mental illness. It runs in your family. It’s not your fault.”

“I’m crazy,” Betty said softly. “I told you I was crazy. Everyone thinks I’m perfect. But I’m not, at all.”

“Betty, you are perfect." He ran his hands through her hair. “I’m totally in love with you. I couldn’t admire you more if I tried. So, your brilliant, creative mind is wired a little differently. Who gives a fuck, babe?”

She laughed. “You make it sound so easy.”

“It’s the twenty-first century. There’s no stigma. I’m so grateful that you told me. I understand that you must think this is a horrible secret. But it’s just not. It’s important that you know what your condition is. It’s great that you got help.”

Betty bit her lip. “The doctor gave me a prescription, but it ran out just after I got home. I had an episode once, already. Something happened, something bad, but I didn’t remember it later.”

“You’re afraid to go to the doctor, here?”

She nodded. “I still see the same pediatrician that’s known me my whole life.”

“Then we’ll find someone who can see you in Rockland,” said Jughead. “Or we’ll go down to New York City. You’ll be okay. I’ll be with you, every step of the way.”


	4. Pictures of You

_I've been looking so long at these pictures of you  
That I almost believe that they're real_

_-The Cure_

“I just can’t resist the allure of a locked box,” said Betty. She sat on Jughead’s desk, holding a metal lockbox.

“It’s really killing me not knowing what’s in there,” Jughead agreed.

“It’s probably something boring. We shouldn’t get our hopes up.”

“But it was in the trunk with all the love triangle stuff.”

Betty twisted a bobby pin and worked it into the lock. With a quiet pop, the box opened. On top, curled around each other, were three black leather and pearl necklaces.

Jughead twisted one from the others. “It’s got a little metal tag on the back. 'FP'.”

Betty pulled apart the other two. “This one says 'Allie' and this one says 'Mary.' These were handmade. Each one’s a little different than the others."

Jughead looked at one closely. “I think dad must have made these tags in shop class. You can see the impressions from the metal press around the edges.”

Betty pulled a manila envelope from the box. She opened it up and gasped. “Oh, Juggie.”

She held up a Polaroid. It was a picture of his dad and her mom, locked into a deep embrace. Their mouths met and they were cupping each other’s faces.

“So, it’s true. They really were were in love,” Jughead said.

"Wow." Betty tilted her head and stared at it.

Betty laid out the photos from the envelope across the surface of the desk. There were dozens of them, some prints, mostly Polaroids. They rearranged the photos. FP and Alice went from sitting side by side as little kids, lunchboxes in hand, to gawky preteens to the glorious post-punk spectacle of their high school looks. FP had, at one point, rocked a fantastic Mohawk. Alice’s hair had shifted from cotton candy pink to baby blue to sea foam green.

“It’s like you and Archie,” Jughead said. “I mean, they were together since they were kids.”

Betty shook our head. “Archie and I... were never like this.” She held up another photo. The two of them were naked in bed, asleep. FP was curled around Alice, their heads resting against each other.

“They were lovers,” said Jughead. “I mean, we had speculation but this is confirmation.”

Betty bit her lip. “Yeah.”

"So how do we feel about this?" asked Jughead.

"Weird," said Betty. "Decidedly weird."

“Why did Archie’s mom have these pictures of the two of them?”

Betty shook her head. “I don’t know. There’s only one of her in here.” She held up a photo. The three of them were holding hands, with FP in the middle. They were facing away from the camera. They were each wearing a leather jacket, with the triangle and heart symbol on the back. Alice and Mary had matching ponytails, one deep blue and the other blazing red.

“The necklaces start here.” Jughead leaned forward and tapped a picture. FP and Alice, standing on the front steps of Riverdale High. They wore their matching necklaces, as well as matching Social Distortion t-shirts, black jeans and combat boots. Alice’s hair was candy pink. Both of them were smiling.

“Wait a minute.” Jughead flipped the Polaroid over. “Allie and FP. First day of our senior year!” was written on the back in black marker. “So, starting in senior year they were all wearing the necklaces.”

“What does it mean? FP and my mom, they were definitely a couple. But how did Mary fit in?”

“I don’t know.”

During the high school years, there were a lot of pictures taken inside a wooden cabin. The logs could be seen behind the headboard of the bed, behind the couch, and in some shots of the couple sitting at a table and chairs. In one shot, Alice and FP were back to back on a red vinyl couch. She was writing in a notebook; he was strumming on a dark green bass guitar.

There were notations on the back all of the Polaroids, in the same handwriting. Many of them were simply labeled “FP and Allie at the cabin.”

“Mary’s not in any of these photos at all.”

“I think she was the third wheel,” said Jughead. “On the outside looking in.”

Betty held up the photo of their parents, naked in bed. “Would you let someone who was just a friend into our bedroom and let them take pictures like these?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Me neither.” She bit her lip. “They really must have been a love triangle. But we’re only seeing it from one person’s point of view.”

“We might never know what the real story was,” said Jughead. “I mean, we can ask FP and Alice. But do you think we’ll really get a straight answer?”

“We need to find more pieces to solve the puzzle.” Betty picked up the nearly empty box and turned it upside down. There was a key ring in in the bottom. A large brass tag was stamped “PROPERTY OF BLOSSOM MAPLE SYRUP CO.” “So, they obviously had a hang out, which belonged to the Blossoms.”

“We have the key; we just need to find the cabin.” Jughead looked at Betty. “The cabin is a little rustic for the Thornhill estate. It must be on the property where the old maple syrup factory is. Feel up for a little trespassing?”

****

The factory that had made the Blossoms their fortune was on the banks of the Sweetwater River. It was on the edge of the Eversgreen Forest. To get there involved walking along a heavily overgrown gravel road, which hadn’t been maintained since the factory closed in the 1980s.

“Why do all of our adventures involve walking at night through areas that are creepy as fuck?” Jughead whispered.

“I think we make poor life choices,” said Betty.

His hand tightened in hers. “Well, at least we’re doing stupid shit together.”

They reached the first security gate. A chain link fence, with a gate in the middle, crossed the road. NO TRESPASSING was printed on a large, rusted sign. PRIVATE PROPERTY.

The gate was bolted shut, with a sturdy chain. Betty grabbed hold of the fence and quickly scaled it, dropping down on the other side. Jughead followed.

There was another gate about a half mile further. They easily scaled it and kept going.

The factory appeared before them. It was a huge building, a metal walled warehouse. The windows were all dark, but unbroken. An area of lawn around the building was still being mowed and maintained.

“Someone’s still taking care of this place,” Betty noted.

“Which means that they probably have someone patrolling the area.”

“You’re right.” Betty looked up at the tall building. “I don’t think what we want is inside. Let’s check out the rest of the grounds.”

They walked around the wide building. Off to one side was a parking lot, paved and still in good condition. At the far side sat a log cabin. “GIFT SHOP AND TOURS” was printed on a large sign on the front door.

As they walked up to it, it was a lot bigger than it had seemed from far away. The cabin was as big as the Andrews house. They crept around back. There was a cellar door, bolted shut and made of metal.

Betty reached down and tried one of the three keys on the ring. The third one fit. She pulled on the handle. “It’s stuck,” said Betty.

Jughead tried several times and then it popped open. Betty and Jughead pulled open the doors, revealing a metal ramp.

At the bottom of the ramp was a set of metal double doors. Another key opened them, and they turned it. They walked down a small hallway, their steps echoing. They passed a couple of storage rooms, their shelves empty.

At the end of the hallway was another set of double doors, these made of plain wood. Betty turned the last key and opened them.

They were in a large room. There were dustcovers concealing what must be furniture. Jughead could hear a quiet humming. “I think the electricity is on in here.”

Betty found the light switch and flicked it on. Fluorescent lights overhead filled the space with light.

They were in a huge, windowless room. It was paneled in the design of maple boards that they had seen in the Polaroids. There was a kitchen area, with cupboards, a sink and an ancient microwave. A wooden table and chairs were in front of it. A curtained alcove was set up as a bedroom area.

The largest space was covered with tarps and furniture covers. One end of the room was higher than the others. “It’s a stage.” Betty stepped up onto it. She pulled off a cover, revealing a drum set with a painted logo. It was the familiar triangle with a heart inside.

“They were a band!” said Jughead. “Christ, of course. Bizarre Love Triangle was the name of their band.” He uncovered more tarps. He opened a guitar case and pulled out a bass guitar, perfect and gleaming. “It’s like they just stepped away from rehearsal for a minute and left everything behind.”

“It’s creepy.” Betty picked up a pair of drumsticks and held them in her hands.

“This place is like the ultimate hang out,” said Jughead. “Why isn’t Cheryl Blossom throwing parties here every weekend?”

Betty had wandered over to the bedroom area. “I think because Jason and my sister were spending time here. My sister’s earrings are on the bedside table.” She held them up and then put them in her pocket.

“So our parent’s secret hideaway became your sister’s secret hideaway?”

“Which means that Polly might know a lot more about the love triangle than we do.”

“Maybe your Mom told her about the place? Maybe even gave her the keys?”

Betty shook her head. ”I can’t imagine Mom opening up about any of this, ever. The cabin belongs to the Blossoms; Jason must have had a set of keys.”

They removed the covers from the furniture. Everything was in good shape: leather and vinyl furniture had withstood the test of time.

Jughead opened the refrigerator. “Beer and Cokes.”

Betty grabbed a soda, so did Jughead, and they sat together on the couch.

“So, in terms of secret spots to hang out, this is pretty ideal.” He put his arm around her and she leaned her head on his shoulder.

“If you’re supposed to be here,” said Betty. “Jason Blossom’s family owns this place. But we’re trespassing.”

Jughead gestured to the ceiling. “Someone retrofitted this basement as a rehearsal space. It’s been soundproofed. There are no windows. You can have the lights on all night, and make as much noise as you want. No one will see or hear anything. Hell, you could murder someone down here and no one would even know.”

Betty sucked in her breath. “Oh, God. The missing week.” She turned to him, her eyes wide. “Is this where Jason was for the missing week?”

They looked around the room. There were no signs of foul play. Unexpired canned food was in the kitchen cabinets; the freezer was full of microwave meals. They looked in the storage rooms, and they were empty. The only room on the basement level that they couldn’t get into was labeled COLD STORAGE.

“Juggy, Jason was frozen. What if someone stuffed him in there? The Sweetwater River is only a hundred yards away. It would have been really easy to dump the body from here.”

Jughead sighed. “Open the door.”

It was locked, and they didn’t have a key for it.

“I really hate to say this, but we should just call the cops,” said Jughead.

“Then we will get arrested and it might be nothing at all.”

“But if it’s something, we will get our fingerprints all over it and then we’re totally screwed.”

“No one touches anything. We’re just looking,” said Betty. She pulled on a pair of gloves, took a pin from her hair and began picking the lock. In seconds, it popped open.

“You’re disturbingly good at this, babe.”

She smiled at him. “I honed my skills popping open the chains my mom locks me into at night.”

“You know, I can actually imagine that.”

Betty pushed on the door with a gloved hand. It swung open slowly, but with an ominous creak. She leaned inside and flicked the light switch. It was clean, and dark, and empty. Spotlessly clean- and it smelled strongly of bleach.

“Fuck,” Jughead said softly.


	5. Ever Fallen In Love

_I can't see much of a future_  
_Unless we find out what's to blame_  
_What a shame_  
_And we won't be together much longer_  
_Unless we realize that we are the same_

- _The Buzzcocks_

********

“We can’t call the cops. We have no reason to be here. We’ll definitely get arrested,” said Betty. They sat side by side on the couch in the cabin.

“We need to think. Who else would have had a set of keys to get in here?”

“Jason. Possibly Polly. Maybe my mom, your dad?”

“So the list of possible murderers is entirely from my family or yours?” Jughead swallowed. “Awesome.”

Betty cradled her face in her hands. “Oh God.”

Jughead rubbed her back. “It’s okay. We’re going to be okay.”

Betty rubbed her temples. “Juggie, it’s got to be my mom.” Her eyes filled with tears. “She’s batshit crazy. She hated Jason Blossom. She nearly threw a goddamn parade when he died. She knew about this place. She could have thrown him in the freezer and dumped the body. I mean, it’s got to be her.”

“It’s not looking good, Bets,” he admitted. “Motive, opportunity. But someone could have used Jason’s keys after he was killed.”

“And just magically knew about this place?” Betty shook her head. “No. It’s got to be my mom. We need to search my house. I can’t just turn in my own mother for murder with no evidence at all.”

“What are you looking for, Betty?” asked Jughead.

She turned to him, her eyes bleak. “The gun.”

They snuck out of high school during lunch the next day. “Mom and Dad are in New York for the day, at a journalism conference. We should have the house to ourselves. We need to be back in an hour or they’ll figure out that we skipped school,” said Betty.

“If we find a gun, we’re going to be missing school anyway,” said Jughead.

They began searching on the main level of the Cooper house. “What caliber gun killed Jason?”

Jughead looked at the notes on his phone. “A nine millimeter.”

“Is that a handgun?”

"I think so."

In Hal Cooper’s office, concealed in the closet, was a gun safe. It was closed with a combination lock.

“Try birthdays,” suggested Jughead.

Betty got it to open. “My parent’s anniversary.”

“How romantic,” Jughead commented.

Inside the gun safe were two shotguns and a semiautomatic rifle. “Not what we are looking for.”

“A handgun could just be in a regular drawer.”

They went through her father’s desk. “Oh fuck, Betty.” Jughead held up a folder, labeled 'FP'.”

“That’s not good.”

Inside were two envelopes, each one from Genetix Labs. They were DNA profiles, one for Betty, one for Polly. Hal Cooper had verified that the girls were actually his. They were; both kids were a 99% match to his DNA. Jughead looked at the dates on the lab work. Two years ago. What had happened two years ago that made Hal Cooper feel the need to do this?

He handed the papers to Betty. “You know, knowing that I haven’t been secretly in love with my sister is a relief.”

“You really thought that?” Betty was appalled. “But you kept making out with me!”

“And now I have narrowly avoided years of therapy.”

Betty smiled. “God, our parents are fucked up.”

“So fucked up.” Jughead tapped one paper with his finger. “Do you know what happened two years ago?”

“What?”

“My mom left town with Jellybean.”

“Do you think our parents started seeing each other again, when your mom left town?”

Jughead shook his head. “God, I hope not. That would be the icing on top of a really dysfunctional cake, would it not?”

“But something must have happened then, for my Dad to suspect that Polly and I weren’t his.”

In her parent’s bedroom, there was a small locked box in her mother’s bedside table. Betty picked the lock open. There was foam cut out inside, large enough for a pistol, but nothing in it.

“I don’t think we’re going to find the smoking gun, Betty.”

“She probably just threw it in the river. We’ll never find it. There’s no proof.”

But they found something else, hidden in a box in the bedroom closet. They found the ripped up remains of the Jason Blossom murder board.

“So, one of my parents was the one that stole it.” Betty swallowed. “An innocent person wouldn’t do this. The murderer must be either my mom or my dad.”

“Why would your dad kill Jason?”

“For getting Polly pregnant. He hates the Blossoms, all of them. Maybe he just went over the edge.”

“But how would your dad know about the cabin?”

Betty shook her head. “Maybe he followed Polly and saw them there? Or maybe Mom told him. He could have access to Polly’s keys to the cabin, or Jason’s. Or Mom’s if she still had them.”

“Or your parents could just be trying to protect Polly. Polly is the one person who is directly connected to the cabin and Jason Blossom.”

“But why would she kill him? She loved him! I can’t believe Polly would do any of this.”

“She could have killed him, accidentally. Maybe they argued.”

“The last time she saw him, he was alive!”

“Betty, maybe she killed him and didn’t remember.” Jughead took her hand. “You had an episode, and you didn’t remember what happened later. Maybe that happened to your sister, too. Your mom or dad could have just cleaned up the aftermath of the murder, to protect her.”

“We need to talk to Polly.”


	6. Another State of Mind

_These scars in my flesh,_  
_I'm bruised and I'm bloodied_  
_Only she know the pain that I've been through._

_-Social Distortion_

They were getting ready to leave the house when Betty stopped in her tracks. “Crap, we didn’t search the attic.”

“I’ll stay and look,” Jughead said. “You go back.”

“There’s probably nothing in there,” said Betty. “Polly and I were up there all the time.”

“I’ll just double check. I’ll text you right away if I find anything.”

“You should go back to school, too. You’ll get in trouble for skipping.”

“I have English. Miss Hotchkiss thinks I walk on water. I’ll be back before Bio.”

“Okay.” She kissed him. “Text me right away if you find anything.”

The Cooper’s attic was huge. Lots of stuff was clearly labeled. Christmas decorations; baby pictures, boxes of toys. He found Alice’s wedding dress displayed on a stand. Baby clothes, wrapped in layers of tissue.

Their mom had carefully preserved every moment, every stage of her daughters' lives. Alice was a controlling power freak, and maybe a murderer, but she loved them. The attic was a museum, documenting the lives of her children.

It wasn’t until he swept his flashlight over the back wall that he saw it. One piece of paneling was out of place. He climbed back, pushing boxes out of the way until he reached it. He put down the flashlight and pulled the paneling away from the wall. Inside was a secret compartment.

Inside was a familiar looking metal lock box, the twin of Mary Andrews’. Under it was a plastic file box of letters. He opened it up. Years and years of correspondence, from a P.O. box here in town to a succession of addresses. A Cornell address in Ithaca; the county jail. Love letters, between his dad and Betty’s mom. The most recent ones were two years old.

At the bottom of the file box was the real secret: a birth certificate.

BABY BOY JONES

DOB FEBRUARY 2, 1992

Mother: ALICE ELIZABETH SMITH AGE: 19

Father: FORSYTHE PENDLETON JONES JR. AGE: 19

Beneath it was a set of adoption papers. Signed by FP, two months after his son was born. His oldest son; who had never been mentioned by anyone. Jughead swallowed, hard. He and Betty weren’t siblings, no. But they shared a brother.

Jughead placed the metal lock box into the plastic file box and locked it shut. He was getting ready to replace the paneling when he saw something glisten in the back. He pulled it out.

It was a handgun, made of shiny metal chrome with mother of pearl inlays. Very obviously, a lady’s gun. It had to be the smoking gun, the weapon that had killed Jason Blossom. Everything changed from being hypothetical to being all too real, in that moment.

His phone beeped. FIND ANYTHING? Betty texted.

He put his head in his hands. This was too much. If Betty’s mom went to jail, what would happen to her? If she found out about this, this secret brother, would it push them apart? It was too fucked up. Their relationship was only a few days old. It wasn’t strong enough to survive another blow.

Betty would be part of the biggest scandal this town had ever seen. Her mom was a murderer. Her dad had helped cover it up. The murder board was hidden in his shoe box, on his side of the closet.

If they both were convicted and went to jail, what would happen to Betty? She would lose everything. All the Cooper’s money would go to lawyers. She would wind up in foster care. She might not even be able to stay in Riverdale. Her grandparents were dead. Her aunt, her dad’s sister, lived in Boston.

He would lose Betty. Then he would lose everything, too.

NOTHING, he texted back. SEE YOU IN BIO.

Jughead stopped on his way back through the house. He went into the master bedroom and took the pieces of the murder board from their hiding place. He added them to the file box and walked back to the Andrews house.

He hid the whole thing in the attic crawl space and was back at school before fifth period. He even had enough time to go to the tail end of English class, talk to Miss Hotchkiss, give her a bullshit excuse about an assignment for the Blue and Gold and have her mark him as present in the attendance book.

He slid into his seat in Bio just as the bell rang. Betty waved at him from across the room. He waved back. Under the desk, he sent a text. DAD, WE NEED TO TALK.

*****

Jughead drove to the trailer park and stopped in front of his dad’s place. He’d said they would meet there at four, but he wasn’t there yet.

The place was a mess. Out of habit, Jughead picked up a trash bag and started picking up empty bottles and cans. The blankets covering the couch stank of alcohol and body odor. He picked them up and put them in the washing machine. There was no detergent in the bottle; he set it to run on hot water. Better than nothing.

The sink was full of rotten food and dishes. He used up the last bit of dish soap. He sighed and started a grocery list on his phone.

For the eight millionth time, he pulled a flyer that detailed local AA meetings out of his bag and posted it on the refrigerator with a magnet. Made by Jellybean in school, it announced they were One Big Happy Family, complete with a bright yellow happy face.

Not so much.

He was cleaning up the coffee table when he noticed the flash of yellow in his dad’s closet. He walked over and got a closer look. It was Jason Blossom’s varsity jacket, last seen in the getaway car, before it got torched.

In that moment, Jughead knew his dad had torched the car. The car that was full of drugs. The car that was full of evidence. His dad, and Betty’s mom, were in it up to their eyeballs.

Jughead picked up an empty bottle of vodka and tossed it against the wall. How many fucking secrets were there in this town? Were all of them designed to ruin his life? He smashed five more bottles before he realized that he was screaming. He had to pull it together. He had to fix this all, for Betty. He had to protect Betty.

He swept up all the broken glass and searched the house. He found bags of drugs and cash hidden under his dad’s bed. He found two more pistols, too. A third lock box.

He gathered up all this into Jason Blossom’s varsity jacket and carried it to the trunk of his car.

He drove back to the Andrews house. Up in the attic, he tied all of the evidence he had found that day into trash bags. Finished, he wrapped his arms around himself and braced his head against his knees.

Were there some secrets worth keeping? Was there such a thing as the greater good? Could he live with himself, knowing that the guilty walked free? Was it more important to protect the truly innocent? Or was that just a self-serving interpretation? Was he twisting what had happened into a narrative that allowed him to justify what he was going to do? What he had to do?

What made you a man? What made him a man, Jughead decided, was that he was willing to protect the people he loved. Which was, misguided as it had been, Alice’s motive for murder. It also explained FP and Hal’s actions, why they had helped her cover it up.

A bizarre love triangle. One woman. Two men who loved her.

How far would Jughead Jones go for love? Where would he draw the line?


	7. Enjoy The Silence

_Vows are spoken_  
_To be broken_  
_Feelings are intense_  
_Words are trivial_  
_Pleasures remain_  
_So does the pain_  
_Words are meaningless_  
_And forgettable_

_-Depeche Mode_

It turned out, framing yourself for murder was harder than you might imagine.

Motive, for example. Why the fuck would he have killed Jason Blossom?

He thought about the sheriff’s litany of his juvenile delinquent sins.

Drugs?

Gang initiation?

Satanism?

Boredom? Branching out from arson to murder, just to spice up small town life. Sure, that made sense.

Accident? I thought Jason was Archie, so I shot him by accident! Beautiful. Moronic and totally believable.

Jughead sighed. He had Jason’s jacket. He had a murder weapon...or three. He looked at the guns, laid out in a row on his desk. One from the Cooper’s house; two from his dad’s. If he picked the wrong one, would they not believe him?

The sheriff hated his guts. Jughead suspected it wouldn’t take a whole lot of convincing. The Blossoms were rich and powerful and wanted someone to blame. Jughead Jones, trailer park trash, was a truly disposable human being. No one would really question this.

His phone buzzed. A text from Betty. _It’s 2 am, Romeo. Wherefore are thou?_

_You know that wherefore means “why” not “where,” right?_

_Are we going to argue semantics or are we going to make out?_

_Sorry, I’m working on some homework._

He was still working out his confession and trying to pinpoint where he might trip himself up when the first rock hit his window. He looked outside. It was Betty, standing in the middle of the front lawn, in her nightgown.

He opened up the window. “I told you I had homework.”

“Have you ever stayed up late doing homework? No. You get it done during study hall or you don’t do it at all. ”

“Go home. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He shut the window and went back to the desk. Another rock pelted the window.

He threw up the sash and stuck his head out the window. Betty was still standing in the middle of the front lawn. Seeing him, she began reciting Shakespeare at full volume:

_Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo?_

_Deny thy father and refuse thy name._

Jesus fucking Christ. She was going to wake up the whole damned neighborhood. He raced down the stairs and pulled upon the front door. She turned to face him and threw out her arms: _  
_

_Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love,_

_And I’ll no longer be a Capulet_.

He grabbed her and swung her into his arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck. He kissed her, and she responded enthusiastically.

“I can’t sleep without you,” she said. “I need you to function.”

“I need you too, Betty.” He kissed her again.

“Look, I love a good teen romance,” said a dry voice. Jughead spun around toward the door. Fred Andrews, looking very tired, stood in the doorway. “Shakespeare and a make out session on my front lawn? A little hokey, but maybe that’s what teenagers do these days. But I’m old, kids. I’m getting older by the goddamn minute. So take it in the house, keep it quiet, and let me go the fuck to sleep, okay?” He slammed the front door.

Jughead carried Betty across the lawn, back to her house. They went in through the basement, and upstairs into her room. She pulled off his shirt and pulled him into bed with her. She was intense, ardent.

“Make love with me,” she whispered in his ear.

It was the last night. Their last night together. Tomorrow, he would confess to Jason Blossom’s murder. He would never see her again.

“I can’t.” He kissed her sweetly, deeply. “I love you too much.”

Her first time couldn’t be with a murderer. He wanted her first time to be special, romantic, and wonderful. His throat tightened at the thought. He didn’t know who that lucky son of a bitch would be. He wanted to kill him, this future guy, who would get all the sweetness, softness, and love of Betty Cooper.

She’d been his for such a short time.

*****

Just after dawn, Jughead walked across the lawn and up into his room. Fred Andrews was sitting on the bed. In his hands was the notebook Jughead had been using to draft his confession.

“I want a full explanation of this. Right now.”

Jughead cleared his throat. “I killed Jason Blossom.”

“No you did not!” Fred said harshly.

“I did,” Jughead insisted. “I’m turning myself in this morning.”

“The hell you are. The hell you are!” Fred put his hands on Jughead’s shoulders. “Son, you are not going to take the fall for this. You’re not.”

“I don’t have a choice,” said Jughead. “I have to do this. I have to.”

Fred looked into his eyes. “God damn it, Jughead. I have known you since the day you were born. You are not capable of this.”

Jughead shrugged. “I’m a fuck up. I’m a loner. I listen to heavy metal and wear lots of black. It’s me. I’m the killer. Who else would it be?”

“You think I buy the bullshit you’re selling?” Fred shook his head. “Try again.”

“Fred, you have to let me do this.”

“Who are you taking the fall for? Who?”

Jughead shook his head. “No one. It’s me. I’m guilty.”

“You’re guilty of a lot of things, Juggie. Eating me out of house and home? Violating curfew every single night? Completely failing to live up to your academic potential? Absolutely. Murder? No.”

“If you don’t let me do this,” Jughead explained, “innocent people are going to get hurt.”

“I see. That provides a lot of clarity.” Fred Andrews rubbed his chin. “You’re not protecting Archie. That leaves your dad or Betty. The people you care about, it’s a pretty short list.”

Jughead didn’t speak.

“Are you protecting Betty or are you protecting your dad?” asked Fred.

“I’m not protecting anyone.”

“Stop fucking lying to me, Jughead Jones!” Fred lost it completely. “I mean it. You tell me right now. Who is so important that you’re willing to put your life on the line?”

“Dad?” They turned to see Archie in the doorway, his face sleepy. “What’s going on?”

“So back to bed, Archibald. Now!” Archie gave a quick look between his dad and Jughead and left the room.

“This is your very last chance,” Fred said. “You will tell me what is going on, and come clean, or I will take care of this situation myself.”

“You have to stay out of it, Fred.”

“That’s where you are wrong.” Fred pulled himself up to his full height and poked Jughead in the center of his chest. “You are sixteen years old! I am the adult. You don’t call the shots. Maybe you got away with that, living on your own, or with a drunken dad who didn’t give a shit what you did. But that stopped the day you came to live in this house. You are grounded, Jughead Jones. Your car privileges are revoked. I am driving you to school. I am picking you up from school. You are spending the afternoon working in my office. Then we are coming home. I will sit with you while you eat dinner, while you do homework. You will not be seeing Betty in the middle of the night, oh no you will not!” He poked Jughead. “You think you’re a grown ass man, ready to throw yourself at the mercy of the court and take what’s coming to you? Think again, my friend.”

Fred gathered the guns, the drugs, and Jason’s jacket from the desk. “Where is the rest of the evidence? You made a goddamn list of all of it.”

“I’m not going to help you.”

“If it’s in this house, I’ll find it. If I don’t find it, I’m going to go to the Cooper’s house and I’m going to question Betty until she tells me where it is.”

“She doesn’t know. Honestly, she has no idea. You can’t drag her into this, Fred. Please.”

“Tell me where the evidence is or we are going to the Cooper house right this minute.”

Fuck. Jughead closed his eyes and clenched his fists. Fred would do it. Fred would force him to reveal Alice and FP’s plot. Betty must never know.

“Fine.” He led Fred to the crawlspace and showed him the evidence.

“Thank you for being honest with me.” Fred looked at Jughead. “Son, we will make sure that the guilty person pays for this. But only the guilty person, okay? Let me handle this in my own way. Go to school. Pay attention in class. Hold hands in the hall with your girlfriend. Please, just be a kid. These are adult problems. You’ve never had a real childhood; you were too busy looking after yourself, looking after your sister. For once, just worry about you.”

“You make it sound so easy. But it’s not.”

“Your job for the day is to get showered, eat breakfast and go to school. Be downstairs, dressed, at seven o’clock.” He clapped Jughead on the shoulder. “You look like hell, Juggie. Pull it together.”


	8. Rock 'N' Roll High School

_I hate the teachers and the principal_  
_Don't want to be taught to be no fool  
_

_-The Ramones_

When Jughead saw Betty in the hallway at school, she was wearing one of his t-shirts.

“I wondered where that had gone off to.”

“I kind of stole it.”

“You know that’s like, one-sixth of my wardrobe?”

“I’ll buy you something else to wear.” She yawned. “We need to get more sleep.”

“You say that, but you won't let me leave until dawn.”

She shrugged. “It’s your fault. You’re too good at everything.”

He turned to her and grinned. “Oh really?”

She raised her eyebrows. “Yeah, really.”

Betty leaned against the locker next to his as he pulled out his books for Spanish class.

Chuck Clayton walked past with his pack of goons. He stopped next to Betty. “So, does the “S” stand for slut? Or strumpet? Or maybe just...sucking dick?” He pointed at the letter on Betty’s shirt.

“Fuck off, Chuck,” said Jughead.

The football player turned on his heel and shoved Jughead. “You don’t tell me to fuck off, you pussy. Maybe the “S” is for seconds. Sloppy seconds. Since I sure as shit fucked your girl before you did.”

The traffic in the hallways had come to an abrupt halt. What looked like the entire sophomore class stood still, watching them.

Jughead dropped his books and his folders onto the ground. “Don’t you dare talk that way about Betty,” he warned, and he shoved Chuck Clayton as hard as he could.

Archie was pushing his way through the crowd, his face grim.

“Or what?” Chuck shoved him again.

“You are a liar, Chuck! A filthy fucking liar!” Betty’s hands were twisted into fists.

“Whatever you say, whore! You already got me kicked off the team with your bullshit. What else can you do to me, you crazy bitch?”

Betty Cooper completely lost it. She launched herself at the massive football player, punching him hard right in the Adam’s apple. He fell backwards, sputtering.

“The only person I want to sleep with is Jughead, you filthy liar!” She grabbed her heavy biology book with both hands and slammed him full in the face with it. There was an audible crunch.

Everyone gasped.

Jughead grabbed Betty’s hand and pulled her back. “Betty, stop! I think you broke his nose.”

The football player reached up and touched his nose. Seeing blood, he screamed. “I’m going to kill you, you psycho!”

He stepped forward, and Archie Andrews tackled him. The two scuffled.

“Total downgrade, Betty. You traded in a hunky jock for some bookworm from the bottom of the social ladder that needs someone else to fight his battles for him.” Cheryl Blossom’s voice was loud and cutting. She smiled and crossed her arms, pleased with her wisecrack.

Betty jerked herself away from Jughead and slapped Cheryl across the face. The redhead cried out and grabbed her cheek.

“Do not,” Betty said icily, “make fun of my boyfriend!” She stepped toward Cheryl and the other girl stepped back, wincing.

“That’s enough, Betts.” Jughead picked up his girlfriend and hauled her over his shoulder. “You need to calm down. Stop hitting people.” He walked down the hall toward the principal’s office.

The crowd parted. Jughead spied Veronica. “V, a little moral support, please?”

She nodded and followed them.

“Forsythe Pendleton Jones the Third, if you don’t put me down right now...”

Jughead put Betty down. “We’re going to the principal's office. We need to tell them your version of what happened before Cheryl and Chuck show up.”

“That’s a good idea,” said Veronica.

The three of them marched into the main office, past the secretary, and into Mr. Weatherbee’s office.

They had just finished explaining what had happened when Chuck and Cheryl came in. There was an immediate, loud argument over who had started what. “All of you are to report to detention at once!” Principal Weatherbee slammed his hand down on the desk. “Your parents are being notified. You will all wait there until you hear from me.”

The school secretary walked the group down to detention. The classroom was empty, save for a substitute teacher manning the desk and a freshman with a major dental appliance who was drawing on his desk in the front row.

Jughead went to the farthest back corner of the room, hand in hand with Betty. She had gone from angry to miserable. She cried on Jughead’s shoulder. “I’m going to be in so much trouble.”

He patted her hair. “You’ve never been in trouble before. You’re overdue, really.”

She laughed. “Don’t make me laugh. This is serious.”

“Your mother is a force of nature. You’ll be back in class by third period. I’m sure you’ll be grounded. So what? I’ll still be there at two am, don’t worry. I’ll even bring you a strawberry milkshake from Pop’s.” He frowned. "Or maybe not. I'm grounded. We'll figure something out."

"Why are you grounded?"

For confessing to a murder he didn't commit. "Uh, breaking curfew."

Cheryl and Chuck sat in the opposite corner, glaring at them and whispering to each other. “So this is what being a social outcast is like, huh?” said Betty.

“Everyone loves you, Betty. You’ll never be a social outcast.”

“If they don’t like you, I don’t like them.”

“I’m used to people picking on me. It’s been going on my whole life.”

She looked at him, her eyes angry. “You think I’m just going to stand there, while some jerks make fun of you?”

“Fighting back just makes it worse.”

“Then it’ll be worse. Because this bullying bullshit, it stops now.”

The door opened, and in came Veronica and Archie. Archie had an ice bag pressed to his face. They walked over and sat down next to Betty and Jughead.

“So, this is detention.” Veronica looked around the room. “The ambiance does not impress.”

“I don’t think it’s supposed to. It’s supposed to be prison-like,” said Jughead. He still might wind up in one, depending on what Fred planned to do. The uncertainty was killing him.

“Mission accomplished. It's grim and depressing.” Veronica opened her purse. “So, I thought we’d eat these in the student lounge, but looks like we have a change of venue.” She pulled out a paper bag and handed around large, chocolate croissants.

“I love you, Veronica Lodge.” Jughead took a big bite of pastry. “Oh, God. This is great.”

Betty smacked his arm. “Hey, I thought you just loved me.”

“I love anyone who will bring me perfectly prepared French pastries.”

Archie took a bite. “Dad’s going to kill us, Juggie. We’ll be literally shoveling rocks and carrying bricks.”

Jughead shrugged. “I'm already grounded. What's next. Super grounded? Extra double grounded? Bring it on.”

Betty swallowed a bite of croissant. “Veronica, why are you even in detention? You weren’t part of the fight at all.”

Veronica smiled. “All my friends are here. Why would I want to be out there?”

*****

The school secretary opened the door. “Archie Andrews and Jughead Jones.”

Archie sighed. “Time to pay the piper.”

The four of them stood up and walked to the door. “Mr. Weatherbee only asked for the boys,” said the secretary. “You girls can stay here.”

“Not happening,” said Betty.

The four of them walked down the hall. In Mr. Weatherbee’s office, a very annoyed Fred Andrews sat, his arms crossed.

“I can’t even begin to say how disappointed I am in you boys,” he began.

“They were defending me,” said Betty. “Chuck started the fight and I finished it. They were just collateral damage.”

“Betty, you need to go wait outside,” said Mr. Weatherbee.

“No, I don’t,” Betty said.

Mr. Weatherbee turned to Fred. “Archie is suspended for the rest of the week. We will not tolerate violence on school grounds.”

“I understand completely,” said Fred Andrews.

“But with Jughead, I’m afraid my hands are tied. His record speaks for itself. He is expelled from Riverdale.”

“You cannot do that!” said Betty.

Mr. Weatherbee turned to her. “I’ve had just about enough out of you, Miss Cooper.”

“Just wait,” she said angrily. “Just wait until the lead story in the Blue and Gold is your administration’s utter failure to create a safe environment for students. Where the bullies get treated with kid gloves and the ones they bully are punished.”

“Be quiet, Miss Cooper!”

“The rich kids, the popular kids, they can beat up whoever they like. They can sexually harass anyone they like. But they’re still here. The poor kids, they get bullied and harassed and you do nothing. Because the only kids you look out for here are the ones who have parents that write big checks!”

“What the hell is going on here?” Alice Cooper stood in the door, her face furious.

“Mrs. Cooper, please take your child and go to the waiting room. I’m not done with Mr. Andrews.”

Betty Cooper stood up and pointed at her mom. “You need to listen to me, Mom. This isn’t right. They are trying to throw Jughead out of school for defending me.” Betty’s eyes filled with tears. “Chuck Clayton called me a whore in front of the whole sophomore class!”

Alice Cooper sucked in her breath. “What!”

Betty began to cry. “He bragged about sleeping with me, but it’s not true! He called me a slut and a whore! Juggie was defending my honor. So was Archie.”

“Where is Chuck Clayton?” Alice said, her voice ice cold.

“Chuck Clayton isn’t the issue here,” said Mr. Weatherbee.

Alice turned on one heel and stomped out. “Where is Chuck Clayton?” she yelled at the secretary.

“He’s in detention,” stammered the secretary.

Alice flounced out of the door.

“Allie’s going to kill him,” said Fred. He rushed after her. “Allie! Hold up.”

She didn’t stop.

“What is your mom going to do?” Jughead asked Betty.

“I don’t know, but I want to watch.” The teenagers ran after Alice.

They caught up just as the door to detention flew open and Chuck Clayton came out. He was being tugged by Alice Cooper, and not gently.

“You will apologize to my daughter,” she said grimly, “right this second.”

“Let go of me,” he said.

"Allie, let go," said Fred.

She squeezed Chuck's arm and he yelped. “Apologize to Betty,” she said, “or I will sue you for libel and slander and bankrupt your entire worthless family.”

The football player turned to Betty. “I’m sorry. None of what I said was true.”

Alice let go of him immediately. “See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” she said cheerily.

Chuck turned around and stomped away, just as Principal Weatherbee arrived.

“Fred, you and the boys are invited for dinner tonight,” said Alice. “Seven sharp. We’re having pot roast. You can bring a bottle of merlot or a cabernet sauvignon.”

“Sounds great,” said Fred.

She walked over to the principal. “These kids need to get back to class, so they can continue their education. Or is that not what schools are for, any more?”

Principal Weatherbee swallowed. “Back to class, everyone. This...disciplinary issue will be removed from your records.”

Alice smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “You’re damn right, Waldo. If you think I’m going to let you jeopardize my daughter’s future to protect some dumb jock, you don’t know me very well.”


	9. Had A Dad

_Had a dad_  
_Big and strong_  
_Turned around_  
_Found my daddy_ gone

_-Jane’s Addiction_

The Cooper's dining room looked like an ad from a magazine. Everything was perfect- ironed tablecloths, china and crystal on the table, and an elaborate floral arrangement with roses and little yellow flowers. Jughead was afraid to move, for fear of spilling or breaking something. Just to make it more terrifying, he was seated to Alice's right, who was at the head of the table.

"Would you like more pot roast?" Hal Cooper was behind him, offering the platter of meat.

“A little more, please.” Hal added another slice of pot roast to Jughead’s already overflowing dinner plate.

Alice turned towards Hermione Lodge. “I’m so delighted that you could join us for dinner. When Fred called to see if you and your daughter could be added to the guest list, I was surprised. I wasn’t aware that you had rekindled your old high school flame."

“I wouldn’t describe it that way, exactly,” said Hermione.

“We’re both still married to other people,” said Fred. “So, it’s more like rekindling an old friendship.”

Veronica gave him a pointed look. “Yeah, if you’re friends who like to smash your faces together.”

“Your daughter looks so much like you, Hermione. I see she inherited your biting sarcasm as well,” said Alice.

“I was lucky to get mom’s genes,” said Veronica.

Alice shrugged. “You certainly were. Your dad’s no looker. It’s no mystery why your mom married him.” She took a sip of wine. “Helen got all the looks in that family.”

“Aunt Helen is a knockout,” Veronica agreed. “You know, she used to model. She was on the cover of Vogue five times.”

“Of course, there were those rumors that she wasn’t a Lodge at all,” said Alice. “Your grandmother took a very conveniently timed trip abroad.”

“She wouldn’t be the first person in Riverdale to have an unplanned pregnancy, now would she?” said Hermione.

Polly choked on her glass of water.

“Excuse me, honey, I wasn’t referring to you,” said Hermione smoothly.

There was an uncomfortable silence. “These potatoes are delicious, Mrs. Cooper,” said Archie.

“Thank you, Archibald. I’m sure you don’t get a lot of home cooking since your mom left town. She flitted off to Chicago, I believe?”

“The two of you were close friends in high school,” said Jughead. “I’m surprised you aren’t in touch any more.”

“People change.”

“Not always for the better,” said Jughead.

Alice looked at him, her face sharp. “That’s true.”

“I understand you and my dad used to be friends, too.”

She tilted her head. “A very long time ago.”

“Juggie, why don’t you help me bring some more mashed potatoes in from the kitchen?” Betty got up from the table, a large serving bowl in her hand.

Alice waved her away. “I’m sure Veronica can help you, Betty.” She took a sip of wine. “You were saying, Jughead?”

Betty gave Jughead an anxious look. He gave her a reassuring smile and she disappeared with Veronica.

“Considering how close you were in high school,” said Jughead, “I’m surprised that you and Mary aren’t friends any more. Or you and my dad, for that matter.”

Alice smiled. “I see you’ve been putting your investigative skills to good use. I believe Betty told me that you’re writing a novel about the Blossom murder?”

“Yeah, that’s true. I’m thinking of calling it Bizarre Love Triangle. You know, like the New Order song?”

“I’m familiar, Jughead.” She leaned towards him. “I see you’ve been putting a lot of time into your detective work.”

“It’s not that hard, if you know where to look.”

“Do I really have to call you Jughead? It’s an extraordinarily stupid nickname.”

“You can call me whatever you want,” said Jughead. “But I won’t answer to it.”

She laughed out loud. Her face lit up, and for the first time, she reminded him of Betty. “I like you. You have a lot of vim and vigor. I enjoy a man with backbone.”

Betty came back and handed him the bowl of mashed potatoes. “Here you go, Juggie.” He dumped half of the bowl on his plate and kept eating.

“You have an enormous appetite, young man.” Alice watched him eat with wide eyes.

“You’re a very good cook, Mrs. Cooper.”

“Why, thank you. You know, Betty is even better than I am.”

Jughead looked up. “Really?”

“Oh yes, and an even better baker. Betty’s baked goods are to die for.”

Jughead turned to Betty. “I didn’t know that about you.”

“Cookies are my specialty. Would you like me to make you cookies?”

“That would be wonderful.”

Betty and Veronica cleared the dishes. Alice and Hermione came in with coffee and large slices of French silk pie. Jughead drank five cups of coffee and ate four pieces of pie.

“Did you make this pie?” he asked Betty.

She smiled. “I did, actually.”

“Can you make this for my birthday? Because this is the best thing I have ever tasted in my whole life.”

She leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Anything for you, Juggie.”

At the end of dessert, Alice came downstairs. “I have a little present for you, Jughead.” She held up a black leather jacket, with a painted back and studded shoulders. “This used to belong to your father.”

“Why do you have it, Mom?” asked Polly.

“I like to hold on to things that used to belong to me,” Alice said. “Let me help you.”

He held out his arms and she slipped the jacket on.

“It’s a perfect fit,” he said. “Thanks.”

She gave him an appraising look. “You know, you look very much like your father did at your age.”

“The Jones looks, they run in the family. If I had a big brother, I bet he’d look a lot like me too.”

They held eyes for a long, uncomfortable moment.

She patted him on the shoulder. “I see. Well, you’ve got FP’s looks and your mother’s brains. You’ll go far.”

They said their goodbyes. Jughead kissed Betty and she cupped his face in her hands. “See you at two,” she whispered in his ear.

Jughead, Fred and Archie walked across the lawn towards home.

“I couldn’t figure out if Allie was planning your death or planning to seduce you. The two of you had a really weird vibe tonight.” Fred pointed one finger at Jughead. “Stop waving red flags at bulls, young man. That’s an order.”

“I think she might actually be kind of fun when you get to know her.”

“You have horrible taste in women, kid.”

A familiar figure was siting on the front steps of the Andrews house.

“Dad? What are you doing here?” asked Jughead.

He grabbed Jughead by the shoulders and shook him. “What did you do with it, Juggie?”

“Hey!” Archie pulled at FP’s arm. “Leave him alone!”

FP shoved him away. “I know you stole all of my shit! You’re going to get me killed!” He shook Jughead, again, harder.

“Get your hands off the boy, FP.” Fred’s voice was hard and angry.

“Don’t tell me how to raise my son.”

“You signed him over,” said Fred. “He’s not your son any more. He’s mine. But that’s what you do, isn’t it? Just give away what you should cherish more than anything.”

FP. let go of Jughead. “You always have to dig up the past, don’t you? Why can’t you just let it go?”

“Because I’m still cleaning up your fucking messes,” said Fred angrily. “Going on forty years of fixing what you broke. Out of your own selfishness, your own stupidity. How many lives do you need to destroy before you get your shit together?”

“I never asked you to do anything!” FP roared. “You fucking candy ass. I never needed you.”

“No, the ones you hurt needed me. You’ve had three wonderful women love you madly, and you’ve managed to fuck up all of their lives. Is there anyone you’ve ever loved that you haven’t damaged, you asshole?”

FP. took a swing. Fred stepped back and punched him in the stomach.

“Please stop,” said Jughead. “Please, don’t do this.”

FP. grabbed Fred and they grappled with each other. Pounding each other with their fists, they rolled down the lawn towards the street.

“Jesus, Dad! Stop.” Jughead ran after them.

“Dad! No!” Archie tried to pull the men apart, to no avail.

The two men staggered together, still punching each other. They crashed into the hood of Jughead’s car. FP punched Fred in the jaw, hard.

Fred came up swinging and punched FP in the cheek. “You nearly destroyed Mary’s life, and she forgave you. Our whole marriage was tainted from the start. I spent twenty years living in your fucking shadow!”

“You were the one who turned Mary against me, you spineless fuck!” FP slammed his fist into Fred’s ribs.

“Dad! Please.” Jughead tried to grab his dad’s arm but got an elbow in the eye for his trouble. It fucking hurt.

With one blurry, teary eye, he watched a small female figure march out of the Cooper house and down the street.

“Forsythe. Pendleton. Jones. Junior.” Alice said each word of his father’s name with cold precision. She still wore her frilly apron from serving dessert, embroidered with daisies and tiny yellow ducks.

FP stopped what he was doing and turned to face her.

“Allie, you don’t understand-“ he began.

She held up one hand. “Don’t say another word, FP. Not a word.”

“But you don’t understand what Jughead did...”

She stepped forward and grabbed his wrist. “Shut the hell up, FP. Right this goddamn minute.”

He looked down at her, his eyes wide. “But Allie...”

She reached up and pressed one finger against his lips. “You never did know when to stop talking. Listen to me. You are acting like an animal in front of the children. You are dragging them into adult business-our private business. You cannot do that.” Every word was like a knife, exact, precise. She moved her hand away. “Let’s go.”

“I’m sorry.” FP said.

“You’re always sorry and it never changes anything.” She took his hand in hers and pulled him away. “You’re drunk. You always get so fucking stupid when you drink, damn you. I’ll take you back to that shithole you call home.”

Fred put one hand on each boy’s shoulders and steered them into the house. The three walked into the kitchen. Fred winced as he made a bag of ice and handed it to Jughead. “Keep that on your eye, son. You’re going to have a hell of a shiner tomorrow.”

“Can you two explain what just happened?” Archie exploded. “What the hell is going on?”

“It’s not my story to tell, Archie.”

Archie turned to Jughead. “You know, don’t you? You know what happened, with FP and my mom?”

“I don’t know the whole story, no.”

“Is this about the yearbook? That thing you showed us, the love triangle?”

Fred’s head whipped towards his son. “What do you know about that?”

“The senior quotes. The necklaces. The three of them together.”

“They were in a band,” said Jughead. “The band was called Bizarre Love Triangle. Betty and I saw their equipment, found some photos of them practicing.”

“Oh.” Archie’s brow was furrowed. “So, all this is because of some bad breakup in high school?”

“Actually, yeah,” said Fred. “That is exactly what this is all about.”

Archie shook his head. “That’s really immature, Dad. I mean, you and FP were fighting about something stupid that happened a million years ago?”

“You’re right, son. It’s totally stupid.” Fred grabbed a large bag of frozen peas from the freezer and pressed it against his ribs. “I’m going to bed. See you in the morning.”


	10. Age of Consent

_And I'm not the kind that likes to tell you_  
_Just what you want me to_  
_You're not the kind that needs to tell me_  
_About the birds and the bees_

_-New Order_

*****

Betty was making cookies for Jughead. She had asked what his favorite cookie was, after dinner last night. After school, she had mixed up a bowl of batter and filled the house with the smell of delicious oatmeal scotchies.

The oven timer went off and the first batch came out of the oven.

“Do you have any cooling racks?” she asked.

They rummaged through the cabinets and found them.

Betty methodically used her spatula to move cookies from backing sheet to rack. When she was done, she started preparing a second batch, using a tablespoon to shape little rounds of dough onto a cookie sheet.

“When can I eat the first cookie?” asked Jughead.

“Ten minutes.” He watched her finish the next batch and place them in the oven.

After ten minutes were up, she placed a plate with three cookies and a glass of ice-cold milk in front of him. She sat across from him and balanced her chin on her hands as she watched him eat.

“So, how are they?”

He smiled at her. “They are perfect. Crispy outside, chewy inside, just the right amount of butterscotch chips. A+.”

“Really?” She grinned. “I’ve never made them before.”

“Well, you have attained perfection.”

The timer went off and Betty pulled the next batch from the oven. She set the tray on top of the stove.

Jughead came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her. He kissed the back of her neck. “No one has ever made me cookies before.”

She turned to face him and kissed his cheek. “I can make you cookies every day, if you want.”

“You would bake these for me every day?”

“Sure.”

“For how long?”

“Forever.”

“Forever?”

“Or until you get tired of these cookies.”

“I’ll never get tired of these cookies.”

“I know how to make other kinds,” she said. “I make good brownies. Chocolate crinkles, vanilla refrigerator cookies...” He cut her off with a kiss and swept her up into his arms. “Juggie, I’m not done with the cookies.”

He stopped. “Is the oven still on?”

“No, I turned it off.”

“Okay then.” He carried her upstairs to his bedroom. “So, tell me more about forever, Betty.”

“College, I’m thinking New York City. NYU for undergrad; Columbia for grad. You need to get your grades up. I’ll tutor you in science. You need to let Archie help you with Spanish.”

“Okay, so we’ll go off to college together.”

“That’s the plan.”

He kicked the door shut behind him and placed her on his bed. “Tell me more about your plan.” He began to unbutton her shirt.

“After college, _New York Times_ for me, true crime bestsellers for you. My prediction? Your first number one by the time we’re thirty.”

“Thirty?” He shook his head. “I think I’m better than that, Cooper.”

“Twenty-five seems a little...ambitious.”

“I’m really good.”

She pulled his shirt and sweater off. “No need to be cocky, Juggie.”

“Confidence, babe, its just confidence.” He unfastened her bra and set his hat on the bedside table. “So, journalism careers, New York City.”

“Yep, it’s going to be great.” She discarded her pants and underwear, then his. They lay together in a naked tangle.

“So what about...marriage? Kids? Or are we just super cool iconoclasts who are discarding all the usual conventions?”

“Church wedding, here, between college and grad school. Wedding announcement in the _New York Times_ , of course. Kids?” She shrugged. “Eh.”

He pulled her into his arms. “Eh?”

“I don’t like kids. I mean, I like kids, but I don’t want my life to revolve around them.”

He played with her hair. “I liked taking care of Jellybean. I like babies, toddlers. I could do the stay at home dad thing. Write my books at night, dad by day.”

She looked up at him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Agreed.” She held up one pinky. “Pinky swear.”

“What am I pinky swearing to?”

“Getting your grades up, New York, college, church wedding, grad school, bestsellers, _New York Times_ , and negotiable children.”

“What about cookies every day?”

“Cookies, whenever you want.”

“Homemade cookies?” She nodded. He gripped her pinky. “Agreed.”

She smiled. “So, now that’s all settled.” She sprawled backwards and stretched out her arms. “Make love to me, you fool.”

He climbed on top of her and kissed her. “Not yet.”

“You keep saying not yet. What are you waiting for?”

He tilted his head. “Something that hasn’t happened yet.”

“We’ve done everything other than have sex, Juggie.”

“No, we haven’t.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Are you being difficult on purpose?”

“Yes.” He kissed the tip of her nose.

She cupped his face in her hands. “Is this because you don’t want people to think you’re easy? Because I won’t tell anyone that I popped your cherry.”

He groaned. “Seriously? You think you're subtle? You’ve been pulling me into the backseat of my car all over town. You told everyone at school that you wanted to sleep with me. I don’t think our clandestine relationship is all that clandestine.”

“You’re torturing me on purpose.”

“Maybe a little.” He slid down her body. He knew exactly what she liked, now, and soon she was screaming his name, her nails digging into the skin of his shoulders.

He began again, but she grabbed his shoulders and pulled him up to her face. She kissed him, hard. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” He kissed her again. “It doesn’t count if its orgasm induced.”

“Aw, come on. That’s the thing! The thing you’ve been waiting for.”

“Yes, that’s the thing I’ve been waiting for.” He brushed her hair away from her face. “I wanted to make love, with you. Not just...screw like wild wildebeests. I need for it to mean something.”

“Juggie, you know I love you.”

“You didn’t actually say it before.”

“It was implicit, with the cookies and the plans and the pinky swearing.”

He shrugged. “I think this is one of those non-negotiable things, Betty. It needs to be explicit. And not...while we’re naked.”

“But I love you even more when we’re naked.”

“Oh yeah?”

She wrapped herself around him. “Like this.” They were pressed together, skin to skin, head to toe. “Pretty please, make love to me.”

God, his body was ready. But his brain was still thinking, analyzing. What if she changed her mind? What if this didn’t work out? What if he really fucked up and broke her heart? What if he wound up being dragged off to prison?

“Stop thinking and just love me.” She put her hand on his erection. “I know you want me.” She moved his hand between her legs. “I want you.”

It was time. He rolled over to the bedside table and pulled out the box of condoms he had purchased. His hands were shaking and it was hard to open the box. He pulled out a long string of condoms.

“Hand me one.” He complied, and she sank down and sucked on his erection. When he was feeling truly unbearably aroused, she rolled the condom on him in one smooth motion.

“I practiced on a banana,” she said matter of factly.

He started to laugh, but then she grabbed his cock, straddled him and slowly, inch by inch, sank down onto him. When all of him was inside her, she looked down at him with surprise.

“This feels really weird.”

“Like, painful?”

“No, like, full?”

“Can I move?” He licked his lips. “My body, it would really like to move now.”

“Not just yet.” She leaned forward and kissed him, her breasts pressing against his chest.

“It feels so good to be inside you,” he said.

“I think that’s good.”

“I don’t want to come too soon.” He cleared his throat. “I understand there is movement involved here, ideally, but if you just stay on top of me like this, I’m going to come anyway.”

“I’m afraid if I move it will hurt. I think you’re too big.”

“No, I think you just need to move. Just a little. Try.”

She moved up, barely perceptibly, and came back down.

“Okay, no. Please.” He grabbed her hips in both hands. “Betty, I have to do this. If I don’t move I’m going to have a heart attack.”

He thrust upwards. It felt absolutely amazing and his body was insisting to do it more, harder, right now.

She moaned. “Did I hurt you?” he asked.

“No, it’s just weird.”

“Okay, weird is acceptable.” He grabbed her hips and thrust. It was the same as when he pleasured her with his fingers: find a rhythm, find an angle she liked, keep going until she came.

It was going really well, and she had begun making the familiar noises that indicated that she was gearing up for an orgasm.

Then he fucked it all up.

He came, immensely, just completely swept under by pleasure. He heard himself making absolutely ungodly, animal noises as he thrust into Betty. When it ended, he carefully withdrew from her body.

“It’s fine." She leaned over and patted his arm. “I mean, this was the first time. It’s not always good the first time, and for you it was good. So that’s okay.” He pulled off the used condom, tossed it into his wastebasket, and cleaned himself off with a tissue.

“No, it’s not okay.” He climbed back on top of her and kissed her, passionately. She had been nearly there a few moments ago and, damn it, he was going to make her come, right now.

He accomplished with his hand what he hadn’t been able to do during sex, and lo and behold, she was screaming underneath him.

His body responded with enthusiasm. Hard again, he rolled on another condom and slipped inside her.

“Oh God,” she babbled. She was still coming, and he thrust inside her.

“Yes,” he said, and thrust some more.

“This is good,” she said. “Oh God, this is really good.” She grabbed his ass in both hands, her nails scoring his flesh.

“You feel so good,” he said. “You’re perfect and wonderful and I love this. I love you.”

She wrapped her legs around his back. He felt even deeper inside her. It was bliss.

“I’m coming,” she cried out. “I’m coming.”

“Thank God,” he muttered. When she was shuddering all around him, lost in pleasure, he let himself lose control.


	11. She's Lost Control

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For wolfandthief, who wondered what Jughead would do.

_And she turned around and took me by the hand and said_  
_I've lost control again_  
_And how I'll never know just why or understand_  
_She said I've lost control again_

_-Joy Division_

Veronica and Archie shared a plate of French fries at the diner. “So, do you guys want to go to Rockland next Friday night?” asked Archie.

“My cousins are in a band and they’re playing a gig there. I used my magic to secure Josie and the Pussycats an opening spot,” explained Veronica. “We’ve got some new songs. It’s going to be amazing.”

“I’m ungrounded, effective today, so I have the car back. I can drive us all,” said Jughead. “Do you like this plan, Betts?”

“Definitely.” Betty ate a French fry off Jughead’s plate.

She’d eaten six of his fries, so far. “If you want fries, I’ll buy you your own order.”

“I only want a few.”

“You say that, but then you eat half of them.”

Betty ate a scoop of ice cream from her sundae. “Sharing is nice, Jughead.”

“Sharing is overrated.”

“I share my food with you all the time.”

“That’s because you are sweet and nice and kind. I’m not.”

“I don’t mind sharing,” said Veronica. “As long as I get what I want.”

“When we go to Keith’s Diner next weekend, you have to try their cherry pie,” said Archie. “I know it’s your favorite. You’ll love it, V.”

“If we’re going to Rockland, we can go eat sushi, or maybe Thai or Indian food. Really, any ethnic cuisine that people in this backwater town have never heard of would be great.” Jughead took a bite of his hamburger.

“But we always go to Keith’s Diner when we go to Rockland,” argued Archie. “It’s like...tradition.”

“We go there because your dad drives us, and he likes Keith’s. But we have a car now. We can go wherever we want.”

Archie raised his eyebrows. “Wow, we can.”

“The only thing holding us back is money.” Jughead shrugged. “But I’m flush right now. You can pitch in a little gas money; that would be awesome. But I’ve got it covered.”

Betty picked up the cherry from her sundae and ate it. Then she placed the stem in her mouth.

“Betts, you’re going to choke on that,” said Archie.

She shook her head. A few seconds later, she pulled out the cherry stem, tied into a tiny knot. She placed it on the napkin next to Jughead’s plate.

He picked it up. “You did that...with your tongue?”

Under the table, she slid one hand into his lap and placed it on his crotch.

“Did you know, Jughead, that I have a very strong tongue?” She raised her eyebrows. Her hand cupped the bulge in his pants.

“Okay, that’s it.” Jughead slammed a twenty-dollar bill on the table. “Got to go.” He grabbed Betty’s wrist and pulled her out of the booth.

“You guys didn’t even finish your food,” Archie protested.

Betty and Jughead walked outside to the parking lot. She opened the door to his car, and he pushed her into the backseat. She giggled as he jumped in next to her and slammed the car door shut.

She was already unbuckling his belt when he pulled her close for a kiss.

“I think I figured out why Fred gave me the car,” he panted. Betty unzipped his pants and closed her hands around his erection.

Betty sank down to the floor of the backseat. “Oh yeah?” He could feel her hot breath against his thigh.

“So that we don’t get arrested for fucking in public." Betty took him into her mouth, hard and fast. “Oh God, you’re going to kill me.”

She was usually very slow, gentle and careful, even tender, doing this. This was none of those things. He looked down. Her eyes were closed as she sucked him, hard, in and out of her soft warm mouth.

“This is...too good,” he said. “Betty.” He cupped her head with his hand, feeling the strands of her hair. She looked up at him, nodded, and sucked him even harder. It was permission.

Within seconds, he came. He gasped and panted for air as he tightened his hands on her shoulders.

She pulled away, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “That was fun.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself,” he said, his voice labored. “It wasn’t too bad for me either.”

“Hopefully you’ll let me do it again in the future,” she said, with a mischievous smile.

He pulled her up from the floor and kissed her. “You can do anything you want to me, Betty.”

****

That night, he got zero sleep. Betty finally fell asleep at six am. She had been even more demanding in bed than usual. Insatiable. He’d pleasured her over and over and finally, after four hours, she’d conked out and fallen asleep.

He’d never cut it this close before. It was full daylight when he snuck through the Cooper house. He went to open the basement door.

“Good morning, Jughead.”

He turned around to see Alice, wearing a pink silk bathrobe. Hal stood behind her, in a set of plaid pajamas.

“I’m so glad that you accepted my invitation to join us for breakfast,” she said. “Are pancakes okay?”

Jughead cleared his throat. “Pancakes are great.”

“Would you like coffee?”

“Sure, that would be good.”

“I’ll go let Betty know that her friend is here,” said Hal.

“Let her get her beauty sleep, honey,” said Alice. “I’m sure Jughead won’t mind waiting for her.”

“No problem at all.”

He made small talk with the Coopers until Betty came downstairs. She was wearing a pair of black jeans, her hair in a ponytail, and his ‘S’ shirt.

They ate breakfast. Alice was in a great mood, all charm and jokes. Hal shoved his food into his face while he read the paper. Betty was happy and smiling.

Jughead stood up. “Thanks so much for breakfast, Mrs. Cooper. But Fred is expecting me at the construction site. I can’t be late.”

She got up and kissed his cheek. “You’re welcome to join us any time, dear.”

******

At the construction site, Jughead lost himself in the sweaty misery of heavy manual labor. When they stopped for lunch, Fred called him into the trailer.

“So, that thing that we needed to take care of,” said Fred. “It’s happening. You’ll hear something on the news later today or tomorrow at the latest.”

“Okay.” Jughead took a sip of water.

“Do not tell anyone what we discussed before.” Fred put his hand on Jughead’s shoulder. “Betty might get it in her head that this is just too nice and neat for her. Do not let this be the next mystery you try to unravel. Do you understand me? You can’t tell her the truth and you need to find some other case to write about for the Blue and Gold. Are we clear?”

“Crystal.” He bit his thumb. “So, my dad, Betty’s mom? They’re not involved?”

“Don’t ask questions, son. At this point, I am insisting that you let it go. Put it behind you. As far as you are concerned, this is over.”

****

Betty asked Jughead to meet her at Tops and Bottoms, the only clothing shop in town, after he got off work. “I don’t need any more clothes,” Jughead protested.

“I’m not giving back your t-shirt, so I owe you one.”

They walked into the men’s department. Jughead picked up a plain black t-shirt and handed it to Betty. “There you go. Mission accomplished.”

She gave him a look. “Have you considered the radical concept of wearing a color?”

“I wear colors.”

“Black is the absence of all colors, not a color.”

Jughead sighed. “I wear brown. I wear burgundy. Those are also colors.”

She picked up a baby blue shirt. “This would bring out the color in your eyes.”

“I don’t want to bring out the color in my eyes. They serve their function; I can see stuff.”

“Don’t you want to look handsome?”

“Do you not like how I look?” He looked down at his outfit.

“I love how you look.” She leaned forward and kissed him.

“Would you like me more if I wore...preppy junk like this?” He picked up a pink polo shirt.

“Not at all, no.” She held up the same pastel blue t-shirt. “I’d just like to see you in blue.”

“Okay.” It was just a shirt. An ugly shirt, which he would never, ever voluntarily wear. But who cared, really, if it made her happy?

They were making their way to the register when Betty stopped to look at a pair of shoes. They were Doc Marten boots, ankle high, with the Union Jack painted on each toe. “I love these.” She reached out and picked them up.

“They’re not like anything else you wear.”

She smiled. “I think that’s why I like them.”

He turned over the shoe and read the price tag off the bottom. “These are a hundred and forty dollars, babe.”

She winced. “Wow, too rich for my blood. That’s about forty dollars more than I actually have.”

He kissed her cheek. “I’m making good money. I should be able to buy them for you by Christmas. How would you like that?”

“I would love that.”

He paid for the t-shirt and they strolled down the street hand in hand.

********

Veronica was hosting a movie night at the Lodge apartment. Archie and Veronica were having a fierce argument over whether to watch _Evil Dead_ or _Nightmare on Elm Street_.

A small group of teens were flopped on an assortment of furniture in the living room. Jughead and Betty were lying on a big beanbag chair next to the couch. Her head was comfortably resting on his shoulder. He was feeding her popcorn, kernel by kernel, as they waited for the fight to stop.

“They should just make out already,” Jughead whispered in her ear.

“I think screaming at each other is part of their courtship ritual.”

“They are both drama queens,” commented Jughead.

“They’re both alphas. They’re never going to stop arguing with each other.”

Jughead looked down at Betty. “Am I the alpha here?”

Betty smiled. “Sure, Jugs.”

He leaned down and kissed her. “I’m not the alpha at all, am I?”

She laughed. “Just keep feeding me popcorn.”

Veronica turned to the group, frowning. “Okay, we need to get some votes in. Who wants _Evil Dead_?”

Jughead, Kevin, and Polly raised their hands.

“Who votes for _Nightmare on Elm Street_?” asked Archie.

Betty and Valerie raised their hands.

“Suck it, Andrews!” Veronica trilled. “Sam Raimi wins.”

“You’re a sore winner, Veronica,” Archie complained.

Jughead’s phone buzzed. It was Fred.

_I would appreciate it if you kids wouldn’t get home until 1 am._

_Say hi to Hermione for us,_ he texted back.

_Inappropriate, kid._

_Make safe choices! Don’t forget to use protection!_

_One more wisecrack and you’re grounded._

Jughead laughed. “Fred has no discernible sense of humor.”

The movie began. Jughead watched the movie, mostly, in between eating popcorn and kissing Betty. About halfway through, he ran out of popcorn. He went into the kitchen to refill the bowl.

Polly was sitting at the kitchen table, eating a handful of antacids. She smiled at him as he walked in. “Hey, Jughead.”

“Hey. Not feeling well?”

She shook her head. “I have horrible indigestion all the time.” She patted her baby bump.

Jughead nodded. “My mom had it really bad when she was pregnant with my sister. She used to carry antacids in her purse.”

“It’s a real drag.” She shrugged. “My doctor says that it should get better, as I get further along.”

“I hope so.” Jughead sat down at the table. “I don’t want to upset you, Polly, but I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions about what happened with Jason?”

“What kind of questions?”

“You know I’m writing a book about the case.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s just for that. Totally off the record.”

“Okay, sure.”

“How long were you and Jason meeting at the cabin?”

Her eyebrows rose. “You know about the cabin?”

“Yeah.”

She sighed. “Well, for starters, we weren’t supposed to be there. I didn’t tell the police about it because I didn’t want to get into trouble.”

“Why would you get into trouble?”

“We were trespassing,” she explained. “The property, it used to belong to the Blossoms. But it went out of the family a long time ago.”

“But Jason still had keys?”

“Right. He knew the night watchman there, because he used to patrol up at Thornhill. Older guy; his name is Frank. Jason used to slip him some money every now and again. Frank kept the electricity on for us, would stock the fridge, stuff like that.”

“I see.”

Polly got up from the table. “I should get back to the movie.”

“Just one more question, Polly. I promise, I will keep the answer to myself. The car Jason had for you, it had drugs in it. Do you know where they came from?”

She hesitated. “I really don’t want to talk about the drugs.”

“Was he dealing?”

She shook her head. “No. Only a little, to make a nest egg for us. What he had...he stole from the guy who was supplying him. He said it was our safety net to make sure we had enough to run the farm for a while.”

“That makes sense, Polly. I understand that. Do you have any idea where he got the drugs from?”

Polly put her hand on his shoulder. “Jugs...” She looked down at him, her eyes sad.

He swallowed hard. “It was my dad, wasn’t it?”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

She left and Jughead sat in silence. He ate another bowl of popcorn, while he stared at the wall, thinking.

Betty came in and rubbed his back. “Everything okay?”

“Just spacing out. Sleepy.” He rubbed his eyes.

“I’m spending the night here, so you’ll be able to get a good night’s sleep tonight.” She sat down on his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck.

He kissed the tip of her nose. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow. You’re working?”

“I’m off at four.”

“Come by and see me after?”

“Absolutely.”

After the movie ended, the girls got ready for their sleepover and the guys prepared to leave.

Jughead texted Fred.

_We’re getting ready to head home. Time to sneak your girl out of the back door._

_Give me another half hour._

“Kevin, Archie, you guys want to grab some milkshakes at Pop’s _?”_ asked Jughead.

It was nearly three am by the time they finished at the diner and dropped Kevin off at home. Back in his room, Jughead turned on his computer. He did a Google search to figure out the address of the maple syrup factory. With that in hand, he did a search for property records in the town of Riverdale.

According to tax records, the sole owner of the property was Mary Margaret Andrews.

****

After work, Jughead arrived at the Cooper’s house.

Betty opened the door and kissed him. “I’m so sorry. I thought that we could spend time together, but my mom made plans for us to take Polly baby clothes shopping.”

“That’s a good sign,” said Jughead. “So your parents have stopped hassling her about giving up the baby?”

Betty shrugged. “Helen Lodge, Hermione’s sister-in-law, offered Polly a job working at her modeling agency in Chicago. She said she needs someone to work as her assistant and she’s totally cool with Polly having the baby at work.”

“Your parents aren’t going to let her do that, are they?”

“She turns eighteen in two weeks. I don’t think they really can force her to do anything she doesn’t want to do after that. Hermione’s working out the details.”

“That sounds great for Polly.”

Betty leaned forward and kissed him. “Oh! I nearly forgot. Don’t my new shoes look awesome?”

Jughead looked down. On her feet were the Doc Martens that she hadn’t been able to afford the day before.

“Thank you for the boots. I was so excited when I woke up and they were in my closet. You are the best boyfriend ever.” Betty was smiling, her eyes bright.

“I didn’t do anything, Betty.”

Alice walked in, purse in hand. “Oh, Jughead. Are you going shopping with us?”

“No, I should get going.” He kissed Betty on the cheek. “Give me a call when I get back, okay?”

She hugged him. “Thanks again for the shoes. You are the sweetest boy in the world.”

Jughead drove straight over to Tops and Bottoms. The same salesperson that had helped him yesterday was here.

“Hey, hi, this is kind of weird. But I think my girlfriend thought I bought her a pair of shoes yesterday. There must have been some misunderstanding. She has the shoes, but I didn’t buy them.”

She tilted her head. “That’s weird. I sold you a t-shirt, right?”

“Yes. She was looking at a pair of those Union Jack boots. Size seven.”

She went to the wall and pulled down the box. “No, they haven’t been sold.” She opened up the box and gasped. She pulled out a copy of _Pride and Prejudice_ , a makeup bag and two fifty-dollar bills.

“I have the rest of the cash,” he said hurriedly. “I can pay for the boots, in cash, right now.”

“I should call the police,” she said. “This is shoplifting.”

“I will pay you extra for your trouble. Please.” Jughead emptied out his wallet and handed her every dollar he had. “Please.”

She took it and handed him the box. “I don’t want to see you in here ever again.”

“You won’t.”

He texted Betty. _Hey, babe. Come by my house when you’re done shopping, please._

_I’ll text you and let you know when I’ll be done! :-)_

Jughead drove to the trailer park to talk to his father. He had known there was a link between the Blossom case and his dad. The jacket was proof enough, but the drugs clinched it. Fred had told him to stay out of it; he couldn’t live with not knowing the truth.

His father’s trailer had been spruced up. The exterior was now surrounded by fresh sod, a new welcome mat out front. The torn siding had been replaced; the roof patched. There was a “for rent” sign up in the window.

Jughead knocked on the door of the resident manager. “Hi, Mrs. Sales. Do you know where I can find my dad?”

The lady smiled at him. “Sorry, Juggie. He paid up through the end of the month and left three days ago.”

“Did he leave a forwarding address?”

“The blonde he was with said he was headed for rehab. She left a P.O. box to forward the mail to.”

“Do you have that address for me?”

She wrote it on a card and gave it to Jughead.

Jughead drove back home, thinking. The only blonde who would have the means and the interest to help FP clean up his act was Alice Cooper. He thought the P.O. box number was the same as the one that had been on Alice’s and FP’s correspondence, but he wasn’t entirely sure.

What he was sure of was that Alice had whisked Dad out of town just days before the arrest of Jason Blossom’s killer would occur.

*****

Jughead was at his desk, writing, when Betty came in.

He stood up and she hugged him tight. “Hey. Everything okay?”

“I’m afraid not, Betts.” Jughead took her hand and they sat together on his bed. “I need to show you something.” He handed her the shoebox.

She opened it up and found her bag and book. “I’ve been looking everywhere for this!” She looked up at him. “It’s the craziest thing, but someone must have gone through my bag. I’m missing all my cash and this stuff too. Where did you find it?”

He explained what had happened. Her face fell. “I’m banned from Tops and Bottoms?”

“Technically, I’m banned from Tops and Bottoms. I don’t think that’s the most important part of what happened.”

Betty reached up and tightened her ponytail. “Is this all I did? Shoplifted a pair of shoes?” She looked at him, her eyes bleak. “Is there more?”

“No. That’s all.” He hugged her tight. “What happened the last time you had an episode?”

Betty sighed. “Well, Veronica said I tried to drown Chuck Clayton. And that I thought I was Polly. But I don’t remember that."”

Jughead was stunned. “You tried to...drown Chuck?”

“I can’t imagine why I would do something like that.” She looked up at him. “You know me, Juggie. That’s not me.”

“Look, there’s been so much going on that helping you with your bipolar disorder has been pushed aside. We can’t wait any longer.” He cleared his throat. “I called some doctors. Out of pocket with no insurance, it’s hundreds of dollars for one appointment. I don’t have it yet.”

“It’s not your responsibility,” she said.

“No, but I love you and you need help and that makes it my responsibility. I don’t run away from things. I don’t walk away when things get hard.” He hugged her close. “You’ll be fine, Betts. We will work it out.”

******

The next morning at school, Betty was oddly distant. She followed Jughead from class to class, but every time he looked at her, she seemed really remote.

At lunch, he tried to talk to her. “You okay?”

“I think I’m just tired.”

“You might want to try more than two hours of sleep a night, babe. We’re both going to keel over from exhaustion.”

When lunch ended, he grabbed Veronica’s arm. “Can you keep an eye on her in French? She seems really off today.”

“Sure thing, Jugs.”

Half an hour later, during Miss Hotchkiss’ English class, Betty walked into the classroom.

“Miss Cooper, can I help you?” asked the teacher.

She walked over to Jughead’s desk, grabbed his head and gave him a deep, hard kiss.

The class flipped out. The kids hooted and hollered.

“Miss Cooper! Mr. Jones!” shouted the teacher.

Betty bit his ear, hard. “I need you to fuck me. Right now.”

Archie, who was sitting next to him, heard her. He stared at her like she had just arrived from another planet.

Jughead got up from his desk. “Betty’s not well, Miss Hotchkiss. I’m taking her to the nurse.” He pulled her out of the classroom.

As soon as they got out of the door, she turned and pushed him against the lockers. His back banged against the metal. “Betty, we can’t do this here.”

She pushed his hand under her skirt. She wasn’t wearing any underwear. “I need you. Right now.”

“Oh, Jesus.” He looked around. There was a broom closet across the hall. He dragged her into it. He tripped over a plastic bucket and nearly fell into the sink.

Betty slammed his back against the sink. She reached down and ripped her button-down shirt open. Buttons scattered. She wasn’t wearing anything under it. She moved his hands to her breasts and unzipped his pants.

“Betty, all the condoms are at home. We can’t have sex.”

She gripped his erection in her hand. “You want me.”

“I want you all the time, Betty. I’ve had a constant hard on for weeks, thanks to you. But we cannot have sex in the broom closet, during school, without a condom.”

She leaned forward and bit his ear. “Tell me you don’t want me.”

He swallowed. “I can’t tell you that.”

“Tell me you don’t want to fuck me.”

“I do, always. Just, this particular minute is a really bad...” Betty grabbed his ass in both hands and pushed him inside her. “Oh God.” She gripped his hips and thrust, hard, banging his body against the sink.

Sex was more intense without a condom. Everything was hotter and wetter and more mind-blowing and holy fucking God, this was the worst and best thing that had ever happened to him. When this was over, he was going to be nothing but a giant black and blue bruise. It was probably going to be worth it.

She leaned forward and bit him, hard, on the neck. It was too rough, but apparently his stupid body liked it because he was moaning. A lot. She bit him some more. It was absolutely fantastic.

She gripped his wrists in both hands. “I want to tie you up and fuck you until you scream.”

“Jesus, Betty.”

She started to come, her head tilting back. He was going to come too, but he could control this. He just needed to wait a few seconds longer until she was done and then pull out.

She reached under his shirt and ripped her nails down his chest. It stung and he gasped, but apparently there was some circuit in his brain that fucking loved it. He pushed her away with his hands, gasping, as he came all over the front of her little black skirt.

They stood together, panting. Betty’s shirt was ripped. She was missing all of her buttons.

“Your shirt is done for, Betts.” He pulled it off and threw it in the trash, then took off his own t-shirt and pulled it over her head. He zipped up his hoodie over his bare, bleeding chest, wincing.

“Betts?” He kissed her and she looked up at him. “You need to go back to class. Are you okay now?”

She looked down. “I’m all messy.”

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to mess up your clothes.” He grabbed handfuls of paper towels and cleaned her skirt as best as he could. Her skirt was so short. If she bent over, you could see everything.

He took off his pants, pulled off his boxer briefs and slid them up her legs. They hung around her hips, but they were better than nothing. He adjusted her skirt.

“We need to go. Are you okay to go back to class?” The bell rang. Jughead could hear students walking past the door. “We have Bio now. Do you want to go to Bio?”

She nodded, so he took her hand, pushed open the door and walked down the hall with her. He realized that his bag and all of his papers were still in the English classroom. He’d have to deal with it later.

Jughead steered Betty down the hall to their Biology classroom. He sat her down at the lab table. She stared off into space, idly picking at the fabric of the t-shirt she was wearing.

Veronica walked over. “What’s going on? Everyone’s talking about what happened during English.”

“She’s having an episode,” said Jughead. “I’m trying to see if she’ll pull out of it before I have to call her mom.”

“I’ll tell Mr. Keller she’s all jacked up on Midol,” explained Veronica. “Teachers can’t handle anything menstrual. He’ll leave her alone.”

Fifteen minutes into Bio, Betty turned to look at him. “What happened to your neck?”

“You happened to my neck,” he whispered.

She tilted his chin. “You have a giant purple hickey on your neck, Juggie!”

He turned to look at her. “You did it, Betts. Just now. We had sex in the broom closet. You were a bit intense.”

Betty’s eyes were wide. “I had an episode? Here at school?”

“Yes.”

She burst into tears, sobbing.

Today was not going to be the best day ever. He walked her to the nurse’s office. “Cramps, very bad. She has some medicine at home.”

Betty sobbed on his shoulder while the nurse called Betty’s mom. “She wants to speak with you.”

“Jughead? What’s going on?” asked Alice.

“Betty’s not well. Can you meet me back at your house? I’ll drive her home.”

Betty fell asleep in the car. He carried her upstairs and put her to bed.

Jughead waited for Alice Cooper to come home. There was a large fruit bowl in the kitchen. He ate a banana and pulled out the Polaroids from his jacket pocket. Did he have a better play? A less...dramatic way to get Betty the help she needed? No, he didn’t. So it had to be the nuclear option.

Alice Cooper walked into the kitchen. “What’s going on? Where’s Betty?”

“She’s sleeping. She needs it. It’s good. We can talk, honestly.”

Jughead held up his hand. He unfurled a handful of Polaroids, all very graphic nudes of a young, teenaged Alice.

Alice blinked. “Are you trying to blackmail me?”

“Absolutely.”

“Are you delusional?”

“No, I think you’ve got that covered.”

“What exactly do you want?”

“Betty has bipolar disorder,” said Jughead. “I know you don’t want to believe it, but she does. She already tried to kill someone. She’s shoplifting. She walked into my English class and made out with me in front of everyone. I don’t think you really want things to escalate from there, do you?”

“No.” Alice looked genuinely horrified.

“No.” He took an apple from the basket and and bit into it. “I didn’t think so.”

She leaned forward. “I don’t know who the hell you think you are, Jughead Jones, but I’m not in the business of letting little boys boss me around.”

He smiled at her. “I’m not a little boy, Mrs. Cooper. Believe me, I’m all grown up.”

“Apparently so.” She poured herself a glass of white wine. “So, how long have you been sleeping with my daughter? I found the birth control pills in her jewelry box.”

He was silent.

“Don’t insult my intelligence. I’m not stupid or deaf. I know you didn’t just wander in yesterday morning. You were here all night. You’re extremely lucky Hal is hard of hearing.”

“I don’t discuss my personal life with other people.”

“If you get Betty pregnant, I will put a bullet in your brain.”

Jughead laughed. “Believe me, I understand that.”

“There is nothing funny about this!” Alice snapped.

“We are not idiots. I am not my dad. I would never do anything to hurt Betty. She’s safe with me, truly.”

She licked her lips. “Are you going to tell her about your brother?”

“No.” He shook his head. “Betty is really fragile and I just can’t take the chance.”

“Who else knows?”

“I’m the only one that saw the adoption papers and I won’t tell anyone. Not a soul.”

“So we understand each other?”

“We do.”

He turned to leave. “Is my dad going to be okay?”

She shrugged. “I hope this time, he’ll be able to conquer his demons. I’d really like to see him do it.”

“Me too.”

****

Betty lay in bed with him that night, happy and excited. “So, Mom took me to the doctor. She really listened to what he said. She even asked him some questions and asked how she could help me!”

“Great. That’s all good news.”

She laced her fingers with his. “So, the problems I’ve been having with impulse control; the not needing to sleep; wanting to have sex constantly. It’s all bipolar stuff. It should taper off, once I get acclimated to my meds.”

“So you got your meds?”

She kissed him. “I got my meds!”

“Hooray for meds!” He clapped, she laughed, and he held her close. “I knew your mom would come around.”

“She was totally awesome today. I was so surprised. It was great.”

He kissed her forehead. “Your mom is a piece of work, but she really loves you.”

She looked at the scratches on his chest. “I’m sorry about today. I can’t believe I hurt you like that.”

He shrugged. “It’s okay. I liked it.”

“You liked being scratched and bitten?"

“I did.”

“Well, that’s weird.”

“You know, Betts, pain and pleasure are somewhere along the same spectrum. We’re not the first couple to figure that one out.”

“I don’t want you to bite me. Pain isn’t sexy.”

“No?” He rolled on top of her and bit her softly on the neck. “You don’t like this?” He licked her neck, than bit her harder, with a little teeth.

She moaned and grabbed his shoulders. “Oh, Juggie.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, of course that was a reference to Twin Peaks, with the cherry stem. If you don't know what I'm talking about, hit up Youtube!
> 
> Soap opera style "crazy" is a bit different than actual mental illness. I realize you are reading a fanfic, not the DSM 5, but I am well aware that real bipolar disorder can't get wrapped up in a nice little bow with a pop by the doctor's office and one bottle of meds.
> 
> However, I would like to say, that if you do have mental illness, you want a partner who says "yay meds!" and claps for you. Because the real world can be a harsh and lonely place, and you deserve to be loved, for exactly who you are. Don't settle for less.


	12. I Touch Myself

_I love myself, I want you to love me_  
_When I feel down, I want you above me_  
_I search myself, I want you to find me_  
_I forget myself, I want you to remind me_

_-The Divinyls_

Fred flipped French toast onto a platter and set it on the table. “Eat up, boys.”

Archie and Jughead ate together. Jughead wolfed down six slices of French toast, thickly covered in butter and syrup.

“What do you have going on today after school, kids?” asked Fred.

“Football practice,” said Archie.

“I have a Blue and Gold meeting with Betty.”

Archie gave him a dirty look. “Right.”

“What?” asked Jughead.

“Nothing.” Archie stood up and grabbed his jacket. “I don’t need a ride today. I’d rather walk.” He walked out, slamming the front door.

“You boys have a fight?”

Jughead shrugged. “No. I don’t know what’s bugging him. Although he and Veronica were arguing a bit the other night.”

Fred set down a platter of bacon, sat down at the table, and made himself a plate. “I really don’t like him fighting with Veronica. If Hermione and I get more serious, and those two are always butting heads, it’s going to be a real problem.”

Jughead took several pieces of bacon and looked at Fred. “Can I ask you a personal question?”

Fred took a bite of French toast. “I reserve the right to not answer, but fire away.”

“Why aren’t you and Mary divorced?”

Fred nodded. “A fair question. The short answer is: it’s complicated.”

“I understand that. My parents have been separated for two years.”

“They’re not, Juggie. Gladys filed when she left him. The divorce was settled a year ago.”

“That can’t be right. Dad was still talking about getting back together, having us all come home.”

“That might be what your dad wanted, but it’s not what your mom wanted.”

“How do you know that?”

“I went to visit your mom in Ithaca. She had to sign the paperwork to make me your legal guardian. Both your parents had to agree.”

Jughead took a bite of bacon. “Is she okay?”

“Gladys got engaged two months ago. A nice guy; his name is Hank. He’s a dentist. She’s looking for a fresh start, for her and JB.”

“I spoke to her a few weeks ago. She didn’t mention any of this.”

“She wanted to break the news in person, to you and your dad. Your dad kept pushing back the date of her visit.”

“So he was just lying,” said Jughead. “Nothing but lies, from my mom and my dad, both.”

“Gladys has her reasons. She’s doing her best. She loves you dearly and she’s tried to do right by you. You have to know that.”

Jughead didn’t know what to think. Nothing made sense any more.

Fred patted his shoulder. “Look, I know this is very hard for you. But don’t forget, you have me, and Archie, and Mary too. You are part of this family now. You are loved, son. You’ve been dealt a hard hand. I won’t argue that. But the worst of this is behind you. I promise.”

Jughead nodded. “I have to get to school.”

He picked up Betty and they drove over together. As soon as they walked in, they heard the news. The school was buzzing with the gossip. A known member of the Southside Serpents, Dutch Reynolds, had been arrested for the murder of Jason Blossom.

The principal got on the intercom and told everyone to report to the auditorium. When all the students had filed in, Principal Weatherbee introduced Sheriff Keller.

“I know you’ve all heard the news,” said the sheriff. “I wanted to let you know, in person, the actual facts of the case. There’s already hearsay and gossip circulating that are inaccurate.”

Sheriff Keller ran down the facts of the case. Dutch Reynolds had been picked up in a traffic stop for expired tags. Inside the car were bags of drugs with the fingerprints of both Jason Blossom and Dutch on them, as well as the murder weapon. The ballistics of the gun and the bullet from the murder matched perfectly. Jason Blossom’s DNA, including hair and blood, was found in the trunk of the car as well as in a freezer at Dutch’s wife’s place of business, a butcher shop. Dutch had a criminal record that included assault, burglary and possession with intent to distribute.

The sheriff concluded by saying that he would be giving a press conference at six that evening, in front of the courthouse.

As the students filed out, Betty pulled Jughead aside. "I've never been so happy to be wrong in my whole life! My parents didn't have anything to do with this!" She glowed with happiness, her smile huge.

He hugged her. "It's all over, babe. It's done."

Classes resumed for the day. At lunch, Jughead and Betty sat down together with Kevin.

“I can’t believe they caught the guy,” said Kevin. “I mean, the case had pretty much gone cold. That traffic stop was a one in a million coincidence.”

“It sure was a lucky break for your dad’s department.”

“I heard that someone called in an anonymous tip.” Kevin looked over at Betty. “I don’t want to see this in the Blue and Gold. Dad would know I told you.”

“Off the record is fine, Kev,” said Betty.

“Word is that the leader of the Serpents has skipped town. His second in command was Dutch, and now he’s off to prison. Dad thinks this whole arrest is a power struggle; with the two top guys out, there will be a fight to fill the vacuum.”

“Thanks for the intel, Kevin,” said Jughead. Whatever Fred had done with the evidence, it was all wrapped up in a very tidy little bow. He wondered if he should feel guilty. If what Jughead suspected was true, Dutch hadn’t been the one to pull the trigger. But he was part of the Southside Serpents, just like Dad. There was no way that his hands were clean.

Archie came and sat down with his lunch tray.

“You were a little pissy over breakfast,” said Jughead. “Something wrong?”

Archie looked between Betty and Jughead, over to Kevin, and shook his head no.

Veronica came over with her tray, but stopped next to Betty. “I need to talk to you.”

“Have a seat,” said Betty.

Veronica shook her head. “In private.”

“Sure.” Betty kissed Jughead’s cheek. “See you later.”

Kevin finished his lunch and left, leaving Jughead and Archie alone.

“I’ve been thinking about what happened yesterday, with Betty, during English class,” said Archie.

“I see. Is that what’s been bothering you?”

“I’ve known Betty her whole life. I’ve never ever seen her act that way. I couldn’t believe it when she said...” Archie gulped. “When she said...”

“When she said she wanted to fuck me?”

Archie glared at him. “Do not say that word about Betty!”

“You’ve heard the word before, Arch.”

“Don’t joke about this, Jughead. It’s not funny.”

“I’m not laughing.” He wasn’t. He was pissed off. “Break it down for me, man. Are you upset that Betty used the word “fuck,” that she kissed me during class, or what? Which part of what happened do you object to, exactly?”

Archie leaned forward. “Did you...roofie Betty?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Betty is a nice girl.”

“Yes, Betty is a very nice girl.” Jughead was bewildered by this conversation.

“Nice girls don't...act like that in public.”

“Betty kissed me and mentioned sex, and now you don’t think she’s nice?”

“That’s not what I said.”

Betty sat down next to Jughead and took his hand. “Please, Archie. Start over and explain what you meant. I believe you were saying that I used to be a nice girl, and now I’m not, because I’m having sex with Jughead.”

“You guys really are having sex?” Archie looked appalled.

“What we do isn’t any of your business,” said Betty. “My sex life has nothing to do with you.”

Archie looked between Betty and Jughead. “Betty, I think we should talk in private.”

She laughed. “You want to have a private conversation with me about my sex life, so my boyfriend can’t hear it? Get a grip.”

“I just want to make sure you aren’t being coerced or taken advantage of.”

Jughead stared. “What the fuck, Archie? What kind of person do you think I am?”

“I know that before you started dating her, she never acted this way.” Archie pointed at Betty. “She deserves someone who’s going to put her on a pedestal, treat her like a princess. Not someone who just wants to...paw at her and do dirty stuff to her.”

“Archie, you’re a fucking idiot,” said Betty. “I realize this may come as a surprise to you, but orgasms aren’t just for bad boys. Not that it’s any of your business, but I was the one trying to get Juggy into bed, not the other way around. Good girls like to get laid, too. You might want to grasp that concept before you horribly insult another woman you claim to care about.” On that note, she flounced off.

“Wow, Archie. That was some seriously misogynistic horse shit you just spouted.”

“I was just trying to look out for Betty.”

“You can mind your own goddamn business. Betty can look out for herself.” Jughead stood up from the table. “Do yourself a favor. Google “virgin-whore complex.” I’m sure it will prove educational, you caveman.”


	13. My Best Friend's Girl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Zumpie, who wanted to know what happened next.

_She's my best friend's girl  
But she used to be mine_

_-The Cars_

What had seemed like a great idea a week ago turned out to be torture. The drive over to Rockdale to see Josie and the Pussycats perform occurred in utter silence. Betty was not speaking to Archie at all; Jughead was barely speaking to him. Veronica and Archie were in the middle of yet another fight and could not be civil to each other.

They pulled into the parking lot of Sushi Yoshi in Rockdale. “I want to go to Keith’s Diner,” complained Archie.

“Driver picks the restaurant,” said Jughead.

“That’s not a real rule,” Archie replied.

“New rule. When you get a car, you make up your own rules,” said Jughead.

Archie glared at Jughead. “It’s not even fair that you got this car. Dad bought it. He should have given it to me.”

“It belonged to my dad in high school.”

“But he sold it to my dad! It wasn’t his anymore.”

“Guys!” Veronica said sharply. “I’m starving. Shut up and let’s go eat.”

They settled into a red vinyl booth. The waitress handed them menus.

“I don’t know what any of these things are,” Archie groused.

“I’ll order for you,” Veronica offered. “We used to eat sushi in the city every Thursday night.”

“I’m not eating raw fish,” said Archie. “It’s gross.”

Veronica glared at him. “They have a ton of cooked sushi rolls, and entrees that aren’t sushi at all. Read the damn menu and then complain, okay?”

“I don’t know Japanese.”

“There’s an English description under each menu item,” said Veronica. “I know you’re a football player, but I’m pretty sure you can read your native language. Or am I wrong?”

“Let’s just try to get along,” said Jughead.

“I’m not even going to try to get along with Archie until he apologizes to me,” Betty said stiffly.

“I don’t think I have anything to apologize for,” Archie replied. “I’m entitled to my own opinion.”

“Of course you are, Archie.” Betty leaned forward, her voice vicious. “So, how big should I make the scarlet letter to wear across my chest? Would eight inches work for you? Or maybe ten?”

“Betty, please,” said Jughead. “Drop it for now. Let’s just try to eat dinner.”

“No, I really want to know. I value Archie’s opinion on all things puritanical. Should I go old school, and get a big A, or maybe a big W for whore?”

“I never called you a whore,” Archie said angrily. “I would never say that.”

“You just think less of me because I’m not a virgin any more.”

“You’re right,” Archie said, his voice raised. “I think less of you because of all the people in the world, you chose Jughead. You deserve someone better.”

Well, that fucking hurt. “Well, thanks man. That’s nice. I’m only your best friend. Great to know that you think I’m trailer trash, just like everyone else.”

Betty flushed with anger. “Who exactly do you think deserves me, Archie? If memory serves, you rejected me for being too amazing and perfect and wonderful for you to date. So I’m too good for every guy in Riverdale? I should just, you know, slap on a goddamn chastity belt and take religious vows?” She got up from the booth. “Veronica, let’s go. We can get an Uber to the show.”

“Betty, don’t leave,” said Jughead.

“You just want me to be quiet and not argue with Archie, because you care more about cramming your face full of sushi than defending me. Fuck you too, Juggy.”

On that note, the two girls left the restaurant.

“You should go after her,” said Archie.

“No, I need to give her space. Trying to argue with her when she’s that pissed off, it’s like throwing gasoline on a fire. You know her, Arch. You know how she gets.”

“Yeah, I know her,” said Archie gloomily.

“So, you finally came clean with me. You don’t think I’m good enough for her. Message received.”

“Betty is someone very special to me.”

“Me too, Archie. I really love her. You act like I’m just some disgusting pervert. It’s not like that.”

Archie sighed. “Honestly? I’m confused. I hate that you and Betty are together. You have nothing in common. It makes zero sense to me.”

“It makes sense to us,” said Jughead. “Or at least it did, until you opened your big fat mouth and pushed all of Betty’s buttons. Nice job, pal.”

The waitress came over. Jughead ordered a large platter of sushi for himself and an order of yakitori and shrimp gyoza for Archie.

The waitress brought them bowls of miso soup as an appetizer.

“It’s soup,” Jughead explained. “It’s very mild, just a broth basically. It’s good.”

Archie very hesitantly tried the soup and quickly finished the bowl. “This is good.”

“Yes, it’s delicious. Just wait.”

The two of them inhaled the rest of the food when it arrived. Archie even condescended to try a couple of pieces of sushi, and then wound up eating a quarter of Jughead’s sushi platter.

“I told you that you would like it,” said Jughead.

“It was fantastic,” said Archie. “We should bring dad here.”

“I think that is a great idea,” Jughead agreed.

“But they don’t have cherry pie here,” said Archie. “Keith’s has the best cherry pie.”

“I’ll make you a deal. After this, when we go to the show, please apologize to Betty. I intend to grovel, and if you do the same, we will get pie after the show. My treat.”

“Pie a la mode?”

“Yes, pie a la mode.”

Archie thought about it. “I really don’t think you’re the guy for Betty.”

“You can think that all you want,” said Jughead. “Just stop saying it to Betty, because it really pisses her off. A pissed off Betty is a bad thing. For you, for me, for the world in general.”

Archie drank his hot tea. “I always thought, in the back of my head, that Betty was the one for me. That, yeah, I would play the field, but when I was ready to get serious and settle down, it would be with Betty.”

“I know,” said Jughead. “The whole town knew.”

“I never told anyone that, not even you.”

“You’re not really great at keeping a poker face, dude. Plus, who wouldn’t want to marry Betty Cooper? She is, among other things, kind, brilliant, beautiful, sweet and a damn fine baker to boot. You’d have to be an idiot not to want her.”

“I was that idiot,” Archie said grimly.

“For which I am grateful, and I will continue to be grateful, until the day I die.” He leaned forward. “Because I am going to be the lucky bastard who marries that girl some day.”

“No one marries their high school sweetheart any more,” said Archie. “It’s not 1952.”

Jughead smiled. “I will, Arch. You can bank on it.”


	14. I Wanna Get Better

_I didn't know I was broken 'til I wanted to change  
I wanna get better_

_-The Bleachers_

They were backstage at the Uptown. The old movie house had been converted into a popular spot for live bands to perform. Josie and the Pussycats were getting ready to start their set. Betty was fixing Veronica’s cat ears, pinning them into place.

Jughead was trying to speak with Betty, but she was pointedly ignoring him. “You were absolutely right. I didn’t put you first, and I acted like a dick. Yes, I admit that I was trying to smooth things over because I wanted to eat sushi in peace. I suck. I am so sorry.”

“I don’t want to talk to you right now. I’m still really angry with you. I would never let someone talk trash about you in front of me. Never!” Betty thrust a pin into Veronica’s hair.

“Ow!” said Veronica. “Can you guys not argue while you do this? You’re poking me like I’m a damn voodoo doll.”

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry.” Betty patted Veronica’s shoulder.

Veronica turned around and kissed Betty’s cheek. “Thanks, B.” She turned to Jughead. “I love you, but you acted like a real dipshit. You need to fix this.”

“I’m trying.”

“Flowers, chocolates, jewelry,” she listed. “At least one. I would go for all three.”

Jughead turned to Betty. “I will buy you whatever you want, to make this right.”

She rolled her eyes. “God, Juggie! I don’t want stuff! I want to be treated with courtesy and respect. Don’t you get that?”

“Of course I get that. You know there’s no one I respect more than you. You’re just the best, and I am so lucky to be with you. I fucked up. I know I did.” He took her hand. “Please, let me make it up to you. Just tell me what to do to fix this.”

She gave him a peck on his cheek. “Okay, fine. I can tell you really mean it. We’re okay. I overreacted. The person I’m really angry at is Archie.”

“He’s not trying to be an asshole, Betts. He’s just...processing. He’s having a hard time with us being together.”

“That doesn’t excuse what he said!”

“I’m not saying that it does.”

Archie walked over, his hands in his pockets.

“Betty, I think Archie has something to say to you,” said Veronica.

Betty turned towards Archie. He cleared his throat. “I’m so sorry, Betty. I was really surprised and kind of jealous and I acted like a jackass.”

“Yes, you did.”

“I want nothing but good things for you, Betty. If you’re happy, I’m happy,” he said sincerely.

“I don’t like being mad at you, Arch. I understand that you’re not happy about my relationship. But you need to get over it.”

“I know that, I do. I insulted you, and Jug, and I’m sorry.” Archie turned towards Jughead. “You’re my best friend. I know you’re a great guy. I didn’t really mean the things I said.”

“It’s okay,” said Jughead. “We’re cool.”

Betty smiled. “Okay, then. We’re good.” She turned to Veronica. “So, since we are mending fences. Veronica, do you have anything to say to Archie?”

Veronica looked at him with disdain. “Nope.”

“It would be nice to air all of our issues and get things worked out,” Betty suggested.

“Archie stood me up,” said Veronica, “and when I asked him why, he said that something better came along."

“No, I said that something more important came up,” Archie clarified.

“Can’t you see how insulting that is?”

“No, I think it’s exactly what happened and you are being overly sensitive.”

“I sat at Starbucks waiting for you for an hour. You didn’t respond to any of my texts.”

“I couldn’t,” Archie explained, “I was on the phone.”

“For an hour?”

“Yes,” Archie said. “I was on the phone with my mom.”

“You spoke with Mary?” asked Jughead.

“Yeah. I told her that Dad and Hermione are getting serious, and if she wants to save her marriage she should come home.”

“What did your mom say?” asked Veronica.

“She said-” Archie’s voice cracked. “She said she was really happy for them and that she’ll be sending my dad divorce papers by the end of the week.”

“Oh, shit. I’m really sorry,” said Jughead.

Veronica shrugged. “I’m sorry for you, Archie. I am. But my mom is still married to my dad. Your parents’ breaking up doesn’t change that.”

Archie looked at her, his eyes serious. “I overheard my dad and your mom talking. Your father filed for divorce on grounds of adultery. He knows about our parents being together.”

Veronica’s eyes filled with tears. “I was the one that told Daddy. I thought he’d get mad at my mom, talk some sense into her and make her realize what a mistake she was making.”

“It didn’t work out that way,” said Archie. “I think it just sped things up.”

“I fucked up,” said Veronica. “I’m an idiot.”

“No, you’re not.” Betty reached out and patted her arm.

“I have to go.” Veronica flicked the tail of her cat costume and walked over to the rest of her band and prepared to take the stage.

*******

Josie and the Pussycats were amazing. They had three new songs, all of which were warmly received by the crowd. Jughead had never been backstage before. It was totally awesome,  and he loved the energy of being part of something bigger than himself. Seeing live music was electric, the palpable excitement in the air exhilarating.

After the Pussycats finished their set, there was a short break while the crew set up for the next act. Veronica’s cousins came backstage and she introduced her friends to the band. The musicians were warm and friendly and Veronica was obviously thrilled that they were there.

The Triplets took the stage. The front man was Glen Lodge, Veronica’s cousin. He was very tall, very skinny and had short brown hair, with large black gauges in both ears. The drummer was his sister, Daphne, a thin, delicate looking woman with long magenta and teal hair. Their friend Rex Patton was the bassist. He was short and chunky, with Buddy Holly glasses and colorful tattoos on both arms.

They were loud and energetic and completely fucking awesome. The crowd went nuts, dancing to every song. Backstage, Veronica grabbed Jughead and they jumped up and down. Betty and Archie joined in, and they had their own private dance party going on. It was really, really fun. All the bullshit and drama from earlier in the night drained away.

Right before the fifth song, Glen turned towards stage right, where they were. “We’ve got a little surprise for you. My baby cousin, Veronica, she plays a mean synth. Come on up and join us, kiddo.”

Veronica was delighted. She smiled widely as she strode on stage. Glen pointed at the large keyboard that had been placed in one corner.

“Let’s do your favorite.”

She nodded and the band launched into a rousing rendition of “I Wanna Get Better.” The audience sang along and it was great. Veronica was smiling, obviously having the time of her life. The song finished up to great applause and cheers.

Glen spoke into his mic. “Please give a hand for our favorite girl, Miss Veronica Lodge. She’s only sixteen, guys! We expect great things!” Veronica took a little bow and walked offstage.

Betty hugged her. “Holy crap, girl! You are so awesome. I didn’t even know you played the keyboards.”

Josie walked up and grabbed Veronica’s arm. “What the hell was that?”

“Excuse me?”

“You go out onstage in your Pussycat gear without the rest of us and you join in with another band?” Josie shook her head. “Not cool.”

“I’m the one who arranged this gig,” Veronica said angrily.

“You need to remember your place. Showboating with another group? That makes me look bad.”

Veronica frowned. “My cousin did something nice for me. It wasn’t about the Pussycats.”

“That’s the problem. You thought about yourself first, not about protecting our brand,” said Josie.

Valerie touched Josie’s arm. “It’s not a big deal. Veronica was just having fun.”

“She’s just a backup singer. She doesn’t need to be in the spotlight.”

“Hey, Veronica is more than just a singer,” said Archie. “She’s a really talented musician.”

“I already have a keyboard player.” Josie looked Veronica up and down. “Your voice isn’t that great. You’re lucky to be part of the band at all.”

“Back off, Josie,” said Archie. He turned to Veronica. “Start your own band. You’re too good to put up with this diva bullshit.”

Veronica smiled. “You’re right. I am better than this. I’ll get the catsuit dry cleaned and get it back to you.” She handed her ears to Valerie.

“I don’t think you all should stay for the rest of the show,” Betty said to Josie. “Since you were just the opening act and you don’t seem to have any respect for the other musicians.”

“Betty’s right,” said Archie. “You had your moment in the spotlight. I think you’re done here.”

“You picked the wrong girl to push around, Archie Andrews.” Josie turned on her heel and strode out, the rest of the Pussycats following behind.

Archie took Veronica’s hand. “Come on. Let’s watch the rest of the show.”

****

After the performance, the band chatted with Veronica and her friends.

“You know, Mom is coming,” said Daphne. “Her flight was delayed at JFK, but her car service should be at our hotel by midnight. I know she’d love to see you. She’s taking the bus with us to our next gig.”

“I’d love to see Aunt Helen!” Veronica turned to Jughead. “Do you mind going back to the hotel with the band?”

Jughead laughed. “Oh, gee, would I mind going to hang out with a totally awesome band for a few hours? Twist my arm!”

She smiled. “You’ll dig my aunt, Jughead. I think you guys will hit it off.”

“Is this the same aunt that offered Polly a job in Chicago?”

Veronica smiled. “Yep. I only have one aunt. She’s a pistol.”

Betty was talking animatedly to Daphne. “You were so awesome! I love the drums. I used to play, myself. My mom made me give them up when I started high school, because she wanted me to focus on my academics and journalism. But we used to play all the time.” She pointed towards Archie. “My best friend, Archie, he lives next door. My red drum kit, it’s still over at his house. My mom said listening to it gave her a migraine.”

Daphne laughed. “My mom soundproofed one of our guest bedrooms when I was learning to play.”

“I don’t think my mom would have gone for that.”

Archie joined the conversation. “My dad just soundproofed our garage, actually. It’s too bad you gave up the drums, Betts. She was really good. We actually practiced a lot.”

“They used to jam all the time after school, almost every day,” said Jughead. “I logged a lot of time drinking juice boxes and eating chips in Archie’s garage, watching them play.”

“But you used to play too,” Betty said. “Your dad taught you the bass guitar. You played it all the time in junior high.”

“You carried it to school,” said Archie. “It was like an extra appendage.”

“Until my dad had to hock it, yeah.” Jughead shook his head. “No big deal. I was terrible any way.”

Daphne shrugged. “Everyone’s terrible when they first start out.” She turned away. “Rex, how long did it take before you didn’t completely suck on the bass?”

He rubbed his goatee. “Two years or so?”

“Any advice to a budding young musician?” Daphne smiled at Jughead. “I think this one probably has it in him. He just lacks confidence.”

“Keep going until you don’t suck,” said Rex.

“Sensible advice that applies to just about anything,” said Jughead.

“My gift to you. Free advice from a musician that’s actually paying the bills.”

“Hey, that’s nothing to sneeze at, man. You have my complete respect.”

Rex handed Jughead the bass. “We’ve got a little time to kill. Show me what you got.”

“I truly do suck.”

“No judgment.”

Jughead played the first thing he could think of: Betty’s favorite song.

She turned to him, her eyes wide. “Yes!” She turned to Phoebe. “Do you mind if I borrow your kit for a minute?”

“Go for it.” Phoebe handed her a set of drumsticks.

“Hit it, Jugs!” Betty smiled at him.

He hadn’t forgotten a thing. The bass line from Nirvana that he had played hundreds of times sprang from his fingers, with no effort.

Betty joined in, perfectly.

“Hold up, guys! You need your lead singer and guitarist, right?” said Archie.

“Every band needs a front man.” Glen handed him a guitar.

“1,2,3,4!” Archie yelled. The trio launched into "Smells Like Teen Spirit _"_ for the first time in a very long time.

It actually didn’t suck at all. Archie was a much better guitar player than before. Betty was still awesome. Jughead wasn’t as bad as he remembered.

They finished the song and everyone clapped.

“That was awesome, guys!” Veronica was excited. “My friends are even cooler than I already knew!”

“It's not a big deal. We were just kids screwing around,” said Jughead.

“How long did you guys play together?” asked Glen.

Jughead shrugged. “Like...four years, five years?” He smiled. “But really, that’s the best song we’ve got.”

Glen turned to Veronica. “You know, cuz, I think you may have found yourself a band.”

“We could be...The Veronicas!” she announced.

“That band name is taken, Ronnie,” said Archie.

“I wish we really could be a band. It’s so much fun to play together.” Betty was grinning, her face joyous. “But I have cheerleading practice. Plus, the Blue and Gold.”

This was the perfect way to distract Betty from writing about the wrap up of the Blossom murder case. “Let’s do it, Betts. Let’s form a band with Archie and Veronica,” said Jughead. “Not only do we have some equipment, we have a soundproof, private rehearsal space.”

Betty tilted her head. “We do?”

“Oh, yeah, we do, babe.”

“You guys got anything else?” asked Glen.

Archie turned to them.  "Do you guys want to do 'Pumped Up Kicks'?”

“Awesome,” Betty agreed.

Jughead smiled. It was another one of Betty’s favorites and he had many fond memories of playing it. Not too far in to the song, Veronica’s synth kicked in.

They sounded really fucking great together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A gentle reminder: this fic is canon divergent, which means I can make shit up if I want- and I do.


	15. Should I Stay or Should I Go?

_Darling you got to let me know_  
_Should I stay or should I go?_  
_If you say that you are mine_  
_I'll be here 'til the end of time_  
_So you got to let me know_  
_Should I stay or should I go?_

_-The Clash_

The band was staying in a very nice set of suites at the best hotel in Rockland. The band, Veronica and her friends were settled around a group of couches. A table was set with a full tea service, with sandwiches and cookies. Jughead looked longingly at a platter of éclairs. God, he loved French pastries.

“This is not the level of luxury we usually have on the road,” explained Glen. “Mom is staying with us and she wanted to be comfortable.”

“Aunt Helen believes in a very gracious style of living,” explained Veronica.

“I could get used to this.” Jughead took Betty’s hand and squeezed it.

“How the other half lives is pretty nice,” she agreed.

“This place looks like a crack den compared to our penthouse in Manhattan,” said Veronica.

For the first time, Jughead felt sympathy for Veronica. She’d lost everything, too. She had fallen a lot farther, in a shorter time, than he had. Her dad was in jail. Her mom was getting a divorce. He wasn’t the only one who had problems.

The band members stood up from their seats. “We’re going to get changed and cleaned up,” said Daphne. “We’re all gross and sweaty from the gig. But make yourself comfortable. Mom will be here in a minute. She just arrived downstairs.”

Veronica and her friends were left alone with the food. Jughead piled three finger sandwiches and eight cookies on a plate.

“You just ate dinner,” said Archie.

Jughead shrugged. “Never turn down free food.”

Veronica’s aunt walked in followed by a porter carrying her luggage. She was a very glamorous looking woman. She looked nothing like her niece; she had close cropped platinum hair and piercing green eyes. Veronica had mentioned that she had been a model, and it was still clear why.

Helen tipped the porter and he left. Veronica made the introductions.

Helen shook Archie’s hand. “You are the spitting image of your mother.”

Archie smiled. “Actually, I think I look more like my dad. I just have the red hair.”

“All the Blossoms do. I’ve never seen a family more true to type. Most of Clifford and Mary’s children got that extravagantly red hair.”

“I didn’t even know I was a Blossom until recently,” said Archie. “Mom never talked about them.”

“I can understand that,” said Helen. “Absolutely horrible people. Too much inbreeding and too much money make a bad combination. It’s a goddamn Gothic novel up at Thornhill. It’s no wonder that Mary ran as far as she could and never went back.”

“I spent the night at Thornhill. It’s a creepy place. Cheryl Blossom is in my class at school,” said Veronica. “Did you hear that her brother died?”

Helen nodded. “Hermione keeps me well informed. I know that Polly’s pregnant with the dead boy’s baby. It’s very sad.”

“It was so generous of you to offer my sister a job,” said Betty.

Helen nodded. “Your sister is a very talented girl. Her photography portfolio is exceptional, and I would take her on for that reason alone. I hope that once she learns the ropes as my assistant, she will try her hand at fashion photography. I have a great many contacts in the industry to help her."

“Polly really wants to keep her baby,” said Polly. “What you’re doing is so amazing. I really can’t thank you enough.”

“No one should ever have their baby taken away from them. It’s the worst thing you can do to a woman, to rip her babies from her arms.”

“I know mom and dad were trying to do what was best for Polly, but I agree,” said Betty.

“If Polly stays in Riverdale, that baby is going to wind up at Thornhill. No innocent child belongs there. It’s a den of wolves.” Helen took a sip of tea. “Even if Polly didn’t have a single marketable skill, I would help her solely to slight the Blossoms. That family is poison.”

“But Mary is wonderful,” said Jughead. “It’s hard to believe she really is a Blossom.”

Helen turned to Jughead. “We are in agreement. Mary Andrews is one of my favorite people. We’ve spent a lot of time together, since she moved to Chicago.”

“You’re lucky. I miss her. When you go home, be sure to tell her that Jughead Jones says hello.”

She smiled at him. “Is your name actually Jughead?”

“No, ma’am, just a nickname. My real name is Forsythe Pendleton Jones the Third, but no one calls me that. Except my mom, and when she says the whole thing, I’m dead meat.”

Her eyes widened. “My God. You’re FP’s son. You look exactly like your father.”

“You know my dad?”

“Oh, yes. So tell me, how is your father?”

“My dad?” Jughead took a bite of éclair. “Well, he’s had a hard time of it lately, but I hope things will get better for him soon.”

“He’s a very charismatic man. He made quite an impression on the girls, back in high school.” She smiled. “I bet you do too.”

“Not at all, no.”

“Oh, you’re a modest one. You know FP had the girls chasing him from the day he hit puberty.” She laughed. “I mean, good lord. He was like the James Dean of Riverdale. Broody, misunderstood, and built like a damn brick wall. Just...walking sex, your dad.”

“Aunt Helen!” Veronica was appalled.

“I was a senior in high school when he was in the seventh grade. Thirteen years old and six feet tall! One of my friends dated him, when he and Alice were on one of their breaks.” She shook her head. “She was one lucky girl. But of course, he went back to Alice.” Helen turned to Betty. “You know, your mom and Jughead’s dad were quite the item. Hot and heavy for years.”

“Yeah, we know about that,” said Jughead.

She shrugged. “We all thought they were in it for the long haul. But of course, along came Mary, and then things changed.”

Daphne came into the room. “Mama!”

Helen got up and captured her daughter in a big hug. “I missed you kiddo. Sorry I missed your show tonight.”

“You’ll get to hear us in Albany and Buffalo, right? That’s all that counts.”

Jughead grabbed another cream puff from the platter. “This food is amazing.”

“The Lodges know how to entertain,” said Veronica.

  
*****

Very late that night, or very early the next morning, the four friends ate cherry pie a la mode in a booth at Keith’s.

“We could wind up being siblings.” Veronica looked at Archie. “You realize that? My mom is in love with your dad. Like, really head over heels in love.”

“You won’t be actual siblings,” said Betty. “I mean, you’re not blood related to each other.”

Jughead rubbed his face. Not a topic he wanted brought up, moms and dads that used to bang. Or had the possibility of banging in the future.

“What if my mom wants us to move into your house?” asked Veronica.

“There’s no room,” said Archie. “Unless you want to share a room with me or with Jughead, there’s no room for you.”

“Maybe Fred will make me move out.” Jughead would be homeless, once again.

“Dad would never do that,” said Archie. “You’re part of our family, Juggie. You’re not going anywhere.”

“If the Lodges move in, Fred would make the boys share a room,” said Betty. “Archie’s room is big enough for both of you.”

“I don’t want to share a bedroom,” protested Archie.

“I think that’s what will happen,” predicted Betty. “It makes sense.”

Jughead groaned. “That would suck. I won’t have any privacy or space to myself.”

“You were living in a damn closet before. I wouldn’t think you’d be so picky,” said Archie.

“Well, that was before...” Before he slept with Betty every night. Sneaking in and out with Archie in the same room? Difficult. Sneaking Betty in after school, some nights? Absolutely impossible.

Fred and Hermione’s rekindled romance was going to seriously put a damper on his sex life. Betty and Jughead made eye contact. She was thinking it too, he could tell.

“Maybe they’ll buy a bigger house,” said Veronica. “We could all move into a new house together.”

Jughead turned to Betty. “We might not live next to each other any more.”

“You’re all getting ahead of yourselves,” said Betty. “They’re not engaged. They’re not planning a wedding. They might not stay together. There are a whole lot of variables.” She raised her hands. “Be calm. Breathe. None of you have any chill.”

“You’re the least chill person out of all of us,” said Veronica.

“That’s not fair.” Betty turned to Jughead. “I have chill.”

“Eh.” Jughead shrugged. “Not so much.”

She laughed. “No?”

“You have many fine qualities, babe, but that is not one of them.” He kissed her forehead.

She frowned and ate a bite of pie. “I do too have chill,” she muttered.

Archie lifted one eyebrow. “You have more chill than any other member of your family.”

“Oh, for sure,” Veronica agreed.

“Yep,” said Jughead. “No contest.”

Betty raised a fist in triumph. “Yay! I win!”


	16. Tainted Love

In every teen movie, there’s that big moment where the ugly duckling becomes the beautiful swan. Misunderstood Goth girl gets a bathroom makeover, converting her into girlfriend material to win the heart of the popular jock. Boring old Sandy, with her poodle skirt and ponytail, becomes a sexy goddess, adorned with tight spandex and bright red lipstick, and lands her biker boyfriend. The nerdy girl next door takes off her glasses, shows off her cleavage and wins over her childhood crush at last.

We’ve all seen it. It’s a stupid trope. Done to death. But there’s a reason the trope exists. There’s a grain of truth behind the stupidity. Sometimes, one night really can change the way that people see you.

Like so many of the events in Jughead’s life, it all started because of Archie Andrews.

After school, Veronica Lodge was lying facedown on Jughead's bed, crying. Betty was sitting next to her, patting her shoulder.

Jughead was eating a bowl of ice cream at his desk chair. Rocky Road; sprinkles; whipped cream. Good stuff. One of his favorite things about Fred was that he kept the kitchen well stocked, with food he liked. Now that he was earning money, he should kick in something towards groceries. He made a mental note to talk to Fred about that.

“Of course we’ll help, right, Juggie?”

He turned towards his girlfriend. She had her eyebrows raised expectantly.

“Sure we’ll help,” he agreed.

Veronica rolled over, her eyes wet. “You’ll really help me?”

“You’re my friend, Veronica. Of course I’ll help.” But he hadn’t been listening, and so he didn’t know what he had agreed to.

“I can’t believe he just dumped me right before the dance!” Betty handed her a tissue and Veronica wiped her eyes.

“Wait a second.” Jughead stopped eating. “Archie isn’t taking Veronica to the 80s dance tonight?”

“Were you not listening?”

“I was enjoying my ice cream.” He shrugged. “It’s really, really good.”

Betty rolled her eyes. “Jesus, Juggie.”

“I’m sorry.” He cleared his throat. “So what exactly happened?”

“We were just going as friends,” Veronica explained. “But Valerie asked him as a date.”

“But you already had a date with him.”

“Not a date date. Just a friend date,” Veronica explained.

“But she likes him,” said Betty. “She wants it to be a date date, not a friend date. And now he’s going on a date date with Valerie.”

“Wow, that’s...so complicated. I’m really glad I never dated anyone else, Betty. This crap is way too confusing.”

“I know exactly what to do.” Betty leaned forward and smiled. “We just need to make Archie jealous. He won’t be able to stand seeing her with someone else. He’ll lose his shit, he’ll make a scene and then Veronica can tell him she likes him!”

“Wouldn’t it be easier just to be honest? You could just call up Archie and say, “Hey, I really like you, I don’t just want to be friends, I want us to be special naked friends?” asked Jughead.

“You mean, like how you did with me?” asked Betty. “By being direct, telling me about your feelings, and not just staring at me longingly across a room for, say, three years?”

He took a bite of ice cream. “You make a valid point, babe.”

“Look, if we try to make Archie jealous, and he doesn’t get jealous, I’ll know where I stand. If he does, then we can be together.” Veronica smiled, her eyes shining.

Jughead pointed at her with a spoon. “I know that look. You are seriously smitten.”

Veronica pressed her hands against her face. “Oh, man, I really am seriously smitten.”

“Okay, fine. Just because I am a helpless romantic, I will help you. I promise. So what’s the plan?”

They told him. He immediately tried to back out. “No way! No! No! I can’t do that.”

“You promised,” said Veronica.

“It’s just one night,” said Betty. “One dance. That’s all.”

And that’s how Jughead Jones showed up at the dance with Betty on one arm and Veronica on the other.

******

It took a lot of work for the girls to engineer Jughead’s duck to swan makeover.

First there were the clothes. They destroyed one of his black t-shirts, slicing it with razor blades and then fastening the holes with safety pins. The girls disappeared to the thrift shop in town and came back with an astonishingly ugly pair of black pleather pants.

“Please don’t make me wear them.” They made him wear them. He tried them on. “These are way too tight.”

Veronica looked down. “That’s quite a bulge you’ve got there, my friend.” She turned to Betty with a smile. “Get it, girl.”

“Please stop sexually objectifying me. I’m standing right here.”

His black boots were deemed acceptable for the evening’s ensemble. Yay.

Then they moved on to his body. They plucked his eyebrows. Betty jabbed him through the ear with a needle, and Veronica poked a diamond solitaire stud earring through his ear lobe. They loaded his hair with some kind of goop, shaping it into an insane pompadour.

He checked out his reflection in the mirror. He looked ridiculous. “This is stupid.” He stood up, but they pulled him back down.

“We’re not done.” Black eyeliner. Black mascara, both in his eyebrows and on his eyelashes. An application of Betty’s strawberry lip balm.

Finally, they stopped messing with his face. He stood in front of them, arms spread out. “Am I acceptable now? Can you stop picking at me?”

“You are so hot,” said Veronica. She bit her thumb. “Hot damn.”

“Juggy was hot before,” Betty protested.

“Thanks, Betts.”

Betty looked Jughead up and down. “But you are insanely fuckable now.” She raised her eyebrows and grinned.

“Great. I’m so glad that I’m fuckable.”

The girls laughed.

“Ha ha. Go get ready. I’ll pick you girls up at seven,” said Jughead.

They gathered up their bags of makeup and stuff and headed out.

Jughead was reading _Helter Skelter_ while lying on his bed when Archie knocked on his door.

“Wow. That’s a look,” he said.

“You look like you should be peddling coke in Miami.” Archie was wearing a white suit with a neon orange t-shirt and a white fedora.

“I was instructed to show up in theme. I hit the thrift store in town.”

“Uh huh.” Jughead put down his book. “So, how exactly did you justify dumping Veronica hours before the dance and going with someone else?”

“We didn’t have a date date,” said Archie. “We were just going as friends.”

“So it’s okay for you to blow her off?”

“Look, if Veronica had the chance to blow me off to make out with a hot guy, she’d totally do it. I guarantee you, Veronica doesn’t care.”

“Well, you obviously know her a lot better than I do."

“I do.” He shrugged. “Gotta go. Valerie’s picking me up soon.”

“See you at the dance.”

****

Alice Cooper opened her front door. She was decked out for the dance in a white lace bustier and a swirl of tulle skirts, with crimped hair and stacks of jelly bracelets. Her high heels were bright neon yellow.

“Channeling Madonna?” Jughead asked.

“The ‘Like a Virgin’ era was peak 80s fashion,” she explained.

“I’ll take your word for it.”

She looked him up and down. “I’m having second thoughts about letting my daughter out of the house with you. You’re looking quite...dangerous.”

He shook his head. “Nope, it’s all smoke and mirrors. Beneath the hard chocolate exterior, I’m just a big fluffy marshmallow.”

“You look like a juvenile delinquent in extremely tight pants.”

“I’m just a nice boy who happens to be wearing a lot of eyeliner tonight.”

She tilted her head. “You know, I think you’re a wolf in sheep’s clothing.”

“Nope. Just for tonight, I’m a sheep in wolf’s clothing. On Betty’s orders.”

Jughead stepped into the foyer. Betty and Veronica were coming down the stairs. They had done themselves up for the dance in matching black velvet dresses. They’d shredded them and used safety pins to create some very low necklines and some very high slits in the skirts. Betty had blue streaks in her ponytail, while Veronica had bright purple ones in hers. They had deep red lips and they were both wearing black leather chokers with one pearl handing from them.

Betty came up to him and fastened a matching necklace around his neck. “Now you’re perfect.”

The girls smiled up at him, one on each arm. “So, how do we look?” Veronica asked with a smile.

Fuckable. Extremely fuckable.

“Very pretty,” he replied.

Alice picked up her phone. “Okay kids, smile.” She took several pictures of them in various poses. “These are great.”

“See you at the dance, mom.” Betty kissed her cheek.

“I’ll be there after I pick up my fellow chaperone.”

*****

Veronica had described it as a power strut: throw your shoulders back and walk into the room like you’re worth a million bucks. Since Veronica actually had been worth a million bucks, she had it down. Jughead had to practice it, with Veronica and Betty, in the living room at home. His usual stance was much more slouch than strut.

At the school, Veronica and Betty pushed open the double doors and they all walked in. In unison, left foot first. Hand in hand, Jughead in the middle, a beautiful girl on each side.

They had stopped for milkshakes at Pop’s to create what Veronica deemed the perfect fashionably late entrance. It had worked. The room was full, and everyone stopped dead in their tracks to watch them walk in.

As previously arranged, Jughead walked to the punch table and handed each girl a cup. Miss Hotchkiss was pouring punch. “Hello,” he greeted her.

She looked up at him and did a double take. “Jughead Jones?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You look... really nice without your hat.”

He smiled. “Thanks, but it will be back with me in class on Monday.”

Betty put her arm on Jughead’s shoulder. “I don’t see Archie.”

He scanned the room. There were a whole lot of surprised looks as he made eye contact with people. “He’s over there in the corner, chatting with Valerie and Melody.” Jughead pointed.

Veronica nodded. “Okay, target acquired. I’m going to go bribe the DJ for our song.”

Jughead gulped his punch. “It’s not too late to change this stupid plan and just go talk to Archie.”

Veronica raised her eyebrows. “Don’t chicken out on me. I’m depending on you.”

“I’m a man of my word,” he assured her. “I just really, really hate this idea.”

She kissed his cheek. “I will owe you a huge favor, Jugs.”

He shook his head. “No favor needed. We’re friends. Friends who do inane, stupid shit for each other.” She walked over to the DJ booth.

Kevin came up to Jughead and clapped his hand on his shoulder. He was sporting a black mesh t-shirt and a pair of gold lame pants. “Holy James Dean, Jugs! You are hot as fuck.”

“Thank you, good sir,” Jughead replied. “That was the plan.”

“Mission accomplished.” Kevin took out his phone. “I need to capture your hotness for posterity.”

Jughead shook his head. “No, don’t take my photo. I look dumb.”

Betty put her arm around Kevin’s waist. “Come on, Jugs. For me.” She smiled, her face alight. “I love you.”

Jughead smiled in return and Kevin’s flash went off.

“Perfect,” said Kevin. “God, what a fabulous shot.”

There was a tap on Jughead’s shoulder. He turned around to see Ethel Muggs, dressed in a hideous neon pink satin dress with huge curled hair. “Would you like to dance?”

“No.”

Betty shoved him toward Ethel. “Be nice, Juggy.”

He groaned. “Fine.” He took Ethel by the elbow and she jumped up and down to “Girls Just Want to Have Fun,” while he stepped left, then right, and repeated that for the duration of the song.

When it ended, the DJ launched into “1999.” Betty and Veronica joined Jughead on the dance floor, and they all jumped around like deranged pogo sticks. It was actually a lot of fun. Ethel joined them, and Kevin, then Archie and Valerie, and soon there was a wide circle of kids dancing together.

Then the opening notes of Veronica’s song began to play. It was a slower song, and the throng broke apart into couples. The moment Jughead was dreading had arrived.

Veronica had instructed him to think of himself as a pole. The girls were going to do their thing, and all he needed to do was stand still.  

 _Sometimes I feel I've got to_  
_Run away I've got to_  
_Get away_  
_From the pain that you drive into the heart of me_  
_The love we share_  
_Seems to go nowhere_  
_And I've lost my light_  
_For I toss and turn I can't sleep at nig_ ht

The girls did a sexy dance with each other, while each leaving one arm on Jughead. Then Betty shimmied next to him and pulled his head down for a kiss. “It’s okay,” she whispered in his ear.

He turned towards Veronica. She looked up at him, her eyes wide. “Now,” she whispered. His left arm was wrapped around Betty’s waist, but the rest of him, from shoulder to ankle, was pressed against Veronica Lodge.

He cupped her cheek with his right hand and kissed her. He had been instructed to sell this kiss, to make it abundantly clear that this was a kiss that meant business. He kissed her hard, the way he kissed Betty when he was ready to wrap up the foreplay and, well...fuck.

Betty was sweet and delicious to kiss, like strawberries. Veronica didn’t taste like that. She tasted like a root beer float, something creamy and dark. It was just a kiss, but it was a totally different animal.

She deepened the kiss, and he followed her lead. Their tongues were twisting together, her mouth opening under his. He felt her hand press against the center of his back. It was the signal, for the last and worst part of this favor.

He moved his hand and cupped Veronica Lodge’s tiny, hard ass in his palm. She groaned in his mouth. Something sparked in his brain and he immediately shut it down.

He started counting down from five. It would take all of five seconds, he had guessed, for Archie to see his hand on Veronica’s ass and to flip his goddamn lid. Archie did like Veronica; Jughead had no doubt. The stupid lunkhead just needed a shove in the right direction.

Just as he counted down to one, a powerful hand closed around his shoulder and pulled him away.

“You’re so damn predictable, man.” Jughead turned to face Archie. But it wasn’t Archie. It was his father, and he was pissed off.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he hissed.

“Dad!” Jughead was dumbfounded. His father grabbed his arm and pulled him off the dance floor.

He stopped in the corner near the punch bowl and let it rip. “Do you think this is some kind of joke? Don’t you know how much trouble you are starting up here?”

“Dad, it really is a joke.”

He laughed, but there was no humor in it. He reached up and touched Jughead’s leather and pearl necklace. “Yeah, I know. One of them is your girlfriend. You’re just the beard for the other, right? It all sounds great until it turns to shit.”

Alice rushed over and grabbed FP's hand. “Don’t ruin the kids’ night. It’s okay, I promise.”

“Dad, it’s just a prank.”

“It won’t be such a fun fucking prank when you’ve knocked up two girls at the same goddamn time!”

“Calm down, honey. They’re just kids,” said Alice, her voice soft.

FP’s face crumpled. “Yeah, we were just kids too.”

“Settle down, okay? Show Jughead the reason you came tonight.”

FP rubbed his eyes and shook his head no. He looked like he was about to cry.

Alice’s voice was very gentle. “Please. You’ve worked really hard.”

“Dad, I’m sorry I upset you. We were just kidding around,” said Jughead.

“Make better choices than I have, son.” FP slapped something into Jughead’s hand. “I really do love you. Not that it matters.” He turned and walked away.

“I’ll go after him. He’s done so well and the last thing he needs is a relapse.” Alice patted Jughead’s shoulder. “Everything’s going to be okay, Juggie. Enjoy the dance. Get my daughter back home by one.”

Jughead looked down at his hand. In it was a red metal chip from Alcoholics Anonymous, for one month of recovery. His dad had been sober for a month, just like he had promised he would.

“Hey.” He turned around and there were Betty and Veronica. “What happened?”

Jughead handed Betty the chip. He turned his back on them both and wrapped his arms around himself. He didn’t know how to deal with this. He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to feel.

Had his dad truly gotten Mary and Alice pregnant at the same time? What a goddamn clusterfuck. He couldn’t breathe. He walked out of the dance and into the hallway. Around the corner, he leaned against the lockers.

Lies and secrets. This fucking town was full of them. They were like land mines, under his feet. He didn’t know which way to move.

Betty wrapped her arms around him. “It’s okay. Everything is going to be okay.”

“Betty, you don’t understand.”

“Tell me.” She looked up at him, her eyes soft. “You can tell me anything, Jug. You know that.”

“I know...other people’s secrets. I don’t know what to do with them.”

“If they are other people’s secrets, they aren’t your problem.”

“But they are.”

“No one expects you to save the world.”

He looked down at her. “You are my world. If I lose you, I lose everything.”

She kissed him. “You will never, ever lose me.”

“But I could!” He held her shoulders in his hands. “You can promise forever, to the one you love the most. But sometimes, forever doesn’t happen. Instead of love, there’s just pain.”

“You would never hurt me.”

“What if I do?” He rubbed his forehead. “What if I don’t mean to, don’t want to, but I make a stupid mistake? What if I mess up so bad that I destroy everything?”

Her voice was so soft. “I know this is about your dad, and whatever he said to you. But you’re not your dad.”

“I’m not any better than he is. I’ve lied to you for weeks. I’ve kept secrets from you. You think you know everything, but you don’t. I haven’t been honest with you. Not at all.”

Her hands tightened on his. “I don’t understand.”

“If I tell you the truth, I’ll lose you. If I keep lying, I’ll lose you. I was deluding myself, thinking I could keep you. But I can’t.”

“I want to know the truth!”

“No you don’t! You really don’t want to know. This is just...hopeless.”

Her face was flushed and angry. “You’re trying to get me to break up with you. You’re pushing and pushing, hoping I’ll snap. But I won’t do it, Jugs. We have a plan. You and me. We said forever.”

“You can’t make forever out of a bunch of lies.”

“Then fucking tell me, Jughead! Now.”

“You will stop loving me, if I tell you. You will walk away from me and never come back.”

“I’m not some goddamn china doll! Stop treating me like I’m made of glass and just spit it out.” Her face twisted. “Why can’t you just trust me? Trust that my love is real? That I’m not going to just take it all away?”

“Guys? What’s going on?”

Archie and Veronica were at the end of the hallway, holding hands.

Betty turned and sighed. “Well, that’s good. At least one part of this evening worked out.”

“Are you coming back into the dance?” Veronica asked.

Betty looked up at Jughead, her jaw set. “Yes.” She took his hand and they walked back into the gym together. They danced, in the throng of jubilant people, as if it was their last night on Earth. They went full throttle, holding back nothing, living in the moment.

Later that night, Betty and Jughead made love. They were in her bed, as they had been nearly every night since she told him she loved him. But tonight was different. Where their lovemaking was usually a warm golden glow, enfolding them in pleasure and joy, it wasn’t that night.

The sex was frantic and angry. It was teeth and nails; bites and bruises and scratches. It was all rough edges, their passion sharp and jagged and even cruel. He was inside her, but they had never been farther apart.

When they were done, Jughead stared at the ceiling. Betty pretended to be asleep, but he could feel the tears rolling down his chest. She cried in complete silence, not making any sound at all.

Jughead knew that he was just like his father. He had taken something sacred, something precious, and twisted it beyond recognition. He wasn’t worthy of her love, and now she knew it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trust in your author. Bughead forever, folks. I promise!


	17. Kiss Off

_Take one one one cause you left me and_  
_Two two two for my family and_  
_Three three three for my heartache and_  
_Four four four for my headaches and_  
_Five five five for my lonely and_  
_Six six six for my sorrow and_  
_Seven seven for no tomorrow and_  
_Eight eight I forget what eight was for and_  
_Nine nine nine for a lost god and_  
_Ten ten ten ten for everything_

_\- Violent Femmes_

 

Jughead arrived home just after three am. He walked to Fred’s bedroom and knocked on his door. “Fred? It’s Jughead. I need to talk to you.” He knocked again.

Fred swung open the door. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

“I’m really upset, Fred. I need to talk to you.”

“Sure, sure. Just give me a minute, son. Why don’t you go to the kitchen and make some coffee?”

Jughead got the coffee started and sat at the kitchen table, staring into space. The dog, excited to see him at this hour, nudged him with his nose. Jughead petted Vegas, his fingers sliding through the dog’s silky fur. His thoughts were running so far, so fast, that he couldn’t contain them. He began to cry, and he covered his face with his hands.

“Oh, Juggie.” Fred wrapped him in a hug. “It’s okay. It’s okay, son.”

Jughead cried like a baby. He held onto Fred’s bathrobe and sobbed until he ran out of tears. Finally, he wiped his nose with the back of his hand and patted Fred’s shoulder. “It’s okay. I’m okay now.”

Fed sat down next to him. “I know it feels like the end of the world. But it’s not. You know, it wouldn’t surprise me if Betty showed up here tomorrow, bright and early. Whatever you fought about, I’m sure that you can fix this. That girl really loves you, and I know you love her. You’ll work it out.”

Jughead shook his head. “Well, that’s part of it, but not all of it.”

Fred poured a cup of coffee. “Lay it out for me, Jugs. We’ll talk through it until you feel better.”

“I put the pieces together from what my dad said. He said he was Mary’s beard, but that he got her pregnant.”

Fred looked at him and shook his head. “Jughead, this is not my story to tell. It’s Mary’s business and only Mary’s.”

“And my dad’s,” said Jughead. “Whatever happened, he is the one to blame. Isn’t he?”

“No matter what happened, it’s not on you. Your dad, the things he has done, they are not your fault. They don’t reflect on you. Don’t let FP define who you are. Yes, you are his son. But you’re also Gladys’ son, and that woman is nothing but kindness and gentleness. You have that in you, too, Jugs. You choose the light, over the dark, every time.”

“But I don’t. I helped cover up a murder. I blackmailed my girlfriend’s mom. I think that’s some pretty...dark side of the Force level shit.”

“I don’t think you’re going to go Sith on me, son.” He raised his eyebrows. “However, facing off against Alice Cooper is a dangerous proposition. Braver men than you have tried and failed. I wouldn’t push her too far, if I was you.” He patted his shoulder. “Look, get some sleep. I’m sure everything will seem better in the morning."

“It’s not that easy, Fred. You can’t just spit out platitudes and expect me to forget about it.” Jughead took a sip of dark, hot coffee.

“You have to, because when push comes to shove, it’s not your business. It may feel like it, and for some reason your father can’t resist dragging you into his fucking mistakes, but it is not on you. You need to leave it alone.”

“I don’t think I can live with that.”

Fred nodded. “I know. You can’t resist a mystery. But this isn’t some fun article for the Blue and Gold or your great American novel, Jug. This is the real lives of real people. Real pain and old wounds. Absolutely nothing good will come of digging into this.”

“Okay. Then, can you at least tell me about you and Mary and Dad? Because whatever happened back in high school, you and Dad were friends. Mary was friends with Dad, too.”

“All I can tell you is my side, okay? What I did, it has everything to do with who Mary is. Mary is very special to me and always was. Everything that I have done, in our marriage, and now, is to try to take care of her. To protect her and keep her safe.”

“Why did Mary need someone to take care of her?” asked Jughead.

“Well, that’s a very long story, Jughead.” Fred Andrews took a deep breath, and told Jughead what he wanted to know.

“Mary grew up in Thornhill. She may as well have been a beautiful princess locked in a tower. She was trapped up in that old house, with a crazy grandmother and two drunk parents. Her twin made her life hell. She never had a moment’s happiness until she left that house and never came back.

“Cliff inherited Thornhill; Mary inherited the maple syrup business. Since the plant had closed years before, it wasn’t so much of a legacy. It was left to Mary in her grandfather’s will, and as much as her parents tried to break it after Mary left, they couldn’t. But when she left Thornhill after graduation night, she never set foot there again. As long as Clifford Blossom lives in Thornhill, Mary won’t go anywhere near there.

“Mary is the purest soul I have ever known. She is nothing but grace and kindness. Clifford was born without a heart. He was born mean. The man doesn’t know how to love. The first time I ever saw her was on the first day of kindergarten. A chauffeur from Thornhill dropped the twins off at the door of the school. The rest of us kids were in jeans and t-shirts; the Blossom twins were wearing Sunday clothes, a stiff velvet suit for him and a frilly gown for her. They looked like a pair of porcelain dolls, so dressed up and all pale skin and red curls.

“It was kindergarten, so we had story time and snack and play time, all that. Clifford took everything he could away from Mary. If she had a cookie, he grabbed it. If she had a toy, he snatched it away. She didn’t even fight him, just let go and walked away.

“As we got older, it just got worse. Cliff was a bully, through and through. Mary retreated more and more into herself. I tried to step in, in third grade. I got a bloody nose for my trouble and a strict lecture from my dad. Stay away from the Blossoms, he said, or they would ruin us and drive us out of town. So I did nothing, just tried to be friendly to her. I sat with her at lunch and walked her to class.

“Mary was fragile and dreamy. She always seemed like she was halfway somewhere else, focused on something none of us could see. She wrote poetry and made art. That was about the only time that Mary drew any attention; if there were an essay contest or a art show, Mary would win.

“Then, in our sophomore year of high school, everything changed. We were all eating lunch together when FP and Alice had another big blowout fight. He’d been stepping out on her with another girl, just like he always did. They broke up, again, and she ran away crying. She ran into the bathroom, and Mary was in there, brushing her hair. She patted Alice on the shoulder and they hugged. They hadn’t been friends, not until then, but Alice’s tears did something unexpected. They made Mary angry.

“She took Alice’s hand and they went back to the lunchroom. We all watched while Mary marched up to FP, dragging Alice behind her. Now, I was right there with him. FP was huge, even then. He was the most popular sophomore, by far, and quarterback of the JV football team. His dad was the mayor and a retired judge to boot. You just didn’t mess with FP unless you wanted a beat down. And Mary, the town’s shy weirdo, a full foot shorter than him, called him out for it.”

“You made Alice cry,” said Mary. “Apologize.”

“I don’t have anything to apologize for,” said FP. “We’re done.”

Mary smiled. ”Good. If you can’t treat her well, then someone else will.” And the two girls turned and walked away.

“They were inseparable after that. They were the oddest couple, the Blossom girl and the preacher’s daughter. Mary practically lived at Alice’s; you never saw one without the other.

“A few weeks later, FP and Alice got back together. But it was different this time. The three of them went everywhere together.

“Other things changed, too. Clifford walked up to Mary one day and jerked her arm in the library. She cried out with pain and FP punched him out. Cliff fell down, unconscious, on the floor. The mayor and Mr. Blossom both came to school, but FP wasn’t suspended.

“Cliff had the stupidity to mess with her another time, at a football game. He came up to her and flipped her skirt up. The whole town got a good eyeful of Mary’s underwear. FP beat him down to the ground under the bleachers and the whole school knew. It was made very clear: if you messed with Mary Blossom, FP Jones would knock the teeth right out of your head.

“The summer before senior year, something happened. We weren’t exactly sure what, but the rumor was that Mary had been sent to Europe in disgrace. She didn’t come home until school started.

“On the first day of school, FP walked through the door with one girl on each arm. He walked Alice to class and left her with a kiss; he walked Mary to class and kissed her, too. The whole school was gossiping, because that cocky bastard had two steady girlfriends at the same time.

“They were running around town, all three of them. Alice’s dad was fit to be tied, but he couldn’t stop her from going with FP. There was no one who could rein him in, except his dad, and his dad wouldn’t do it.

“Mary had never had a boyfriend before. I’d never seen her even look at a boy. One night I went down to the Sweetwater River with Hermione. We’d found a great spot to go parking. We were in my VW bus. We were headed to our secret makeout spot, but we passed by the old fishing hole and saw them. It was the three of them. We watched while Mary and Alice made love with each other. I’m not proud of it, but honestly, we were shocked. We didn’t know whether to stay or leave. So the girls were together, very together, and then Alice and FP went at it. I had a huge crush on Mary, always had, and seeing her like that...it was upsetting. I’d seen things that I wasn’t meant to see, and I felt guilty. But most importantly, I didn’t want someone else to see what I had seen, and tell the Blossoms up at Thornhill. Because if they knew, it wouldn’t go well for Mary.

The next day at school, I asked Mary to come with me to Pop's. I ordered her a vanilla milkshake and we sat next to each other in the booth. “I know about you and Alice,” I whispered. “I’m okay with it. I’m not going to give you a hard time. “

She looked at me with wide eyes. “Jesus Christ. How did you find out?”

“I saw you all, down by the river.”

She covered her face with her hands. “Oh, no.”

“It was just me and Hermione, and we won’t say anything.”

“We were drinking. When I drink, sometimes I have trouble stopping myself from doing things I shouldn’t.”

“Then maybe you should stop drinking.”

She smiled at me. “Alice says the same thing. But FP, he always says that we need to live life to the fullest. Carpe diem, you know?”

“I know all about F.P.’s carpe diem attitude,” said Fred. “He’s my best friend, after all.”

“He’s my best friend, too,” said Mary. “FP is the best friend I have ever had. He takes care of me. He keeps Clifford away from me. My brother used to come into my bedroom at night. He hurt me and made me do things I didn’t want to do. I told FP and he beat Cliff up, really badly. He cracked his eye socket. He hasn’t touched me since.”

“Jesus! That’s horrible. Why didn’t you tell someone?”

She took a sip of milkshake. “I did, Fred. I told my mom, my dad and our priest. Nothing changed. I just got whipped, sent away to a convent for the summer and spent a lot of time on my knees praying.”

Fred poured himself another cup of coffee. “So, that’s all I can say, Jug. Mary and Alice were a couple; FP and Alice were a couple, too. It rocked my world, that revelation. I had a hard time wrapping my head abound it. But everything was just fine until graduation night, and that’s where this story has to end. You can get FP’s side of things, if you want to hear his version. But the rest of it is not my story to tell.”

“I would like to talk to Mary. It’s her story, too, not just Dad’s.”

“I forbid it.” Fred slammed his hand on the table. “You cannot, do you hear me? Mary spent years in therapy trying to heal the damage of what happened to her. She is finally, thank God, finding some peace. I’ve told you as much as you need to know.”

“Fred, did you know that my dad got Alice pregnant, too? She gave the baby away.”

Fed nodded. “I know, son. Hermione and I were involved with all of that.”

“So what happened to Mary’s baby?”

“That’s one of the things that you just can’t ask, Jug. The pain of what she went through, it tore her apart. It took years to put her back together again. If you love Mary, at all, please let it rest.”


	18. Something I Can Never Have

_You always were the one to show me how_  
_Back then I couldn't do the things that I can do now_  
_This thing is slowly take me apart_  
_Grey would be the color if I had a heart_

_-Nine Inch Nails_

At dawn, Jughead walked out of the house towards Betty's. There was a small blonde female figure on the front stoop, but as he drew close he was surprised to find it was Alice, not Betty. He sat down next to her.

"I'm guessing you've come looking for answers," she said. "I'm sure what your dad said, about Mary and I, must have thrown you for a loop."

"I tried talking to Fred," said Jughead. "But I'd really like to know your side of the story."

"I can do that," said Alice. "I think you deserve to know. Your dad is going through recovery, Jug. He's digging up the past, all his sins, and trying to make amends. He has to draw the poison out, before he gets better. What happened with the three of us, it's at the heart of what went wrong with your dad."

“Did my dad rape Mary? Because that's what it sounded like. She didn't like men; she was with you, not him; and then she got pregnant. She forgave Dad for it, somehow, but Fred never forgave Dad.” Jughead shook his head. "My dad has made mistakes, but I can't imagine him hurting a woman. I just can't."

“You’re right, Jughead. That’s not what happened at all. FP would never do that; never.”

“Then, please, tell me what happened.”

Alice sighed. “I’ll tell you what you want to know. But you can’t breathe a word of it to anyone, no matter what.”

And, so, Alice explained what had happened, back in 1991.

“The night of our graduation, the Blossoms had a massive party at Thornhill. Clifford and Mary’s parents went all out. It was a giant carnival. They had rides, and cotton candy booths and a Ferris wheel. It was completely insane.

"Just before midnight, our band played a set. The crowd went wild. It was the best that we had ever played.

"Afterwards, Mary grabbed a bottle of absinthe from her dad’s bar and we went out to the Blossom cemetery. Mary wanted to have a private toast in honor of the last time we’d ever play together in our band. We were all leaving the next day. FP was starting football training camp up at Cornell; Mary was going to Paris with her grandmother; and I was off to New York, for a summer internship at _Seventeen_ before I started at Columbia.

"Mary was hammered before we even started with the absinthe. She had horrible stage fright. She always needed a couple of shots before we did a gig, to calm her nerves. FP started carrying a flask for her. But the more that Mary drank, the worse it got. She started forgetting what had happened the night before. She was becoming a blackout drunk.

"I told her she should stop drinking; we had an argument about it. FP insisted that I was babying her and that she was fine. But the whole town knew that the Blossoms were both drunks; there were a ton of stories of them going on benders and trashing the house. I didn’t want Mary to become that way.

"But that night, I let Mary do what she wanted. It was grad night; it was a party; and in the morning we were all going our separate ways.

"So we got completely shitfaced, hanging out in her family’s mausoleum. I drank two shots of absinthe, but I felt really queasy. FP and Mary had a lot more. She climbed up on top of her great-grandmother’s tomb, reciting Edgar Allen Poe at full volume. She was screaming at the top of her lungs about evil and sorrow and FP was laughing his ass off at her.

"She threw out her arms and nearly lost her balance. FP told her to get down, that she was drunk as hell and she was going to fall and hurt herself. But she didn’t, so he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her down.

"They were standing there, with FP cradling her in his arms, and the way they were looking at each other made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. He looked down at her and said, “I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you.” Alice’s voice cracked.

“Mary looked up at him and said, “I love you, too. You’re my knight in shining armor.”

"They kissed, like there was no tomorrow. I didn’t even know how to feel, watching them together. I loved her. I loved him. But they were mine; they belonged to me. Not to each other.

"Mary ripped open FP’s shirt. They were making out like it was the end of the world, and then they were... fucking. Full on sex with each other, with FP pinning her against the side of the tomb and biting her neck. I just stood there watching, while they had the roughest looking sex I had ever seen, biting and scratching like they were trying to consume each other.

"Finally they stopped and pulled away from each other. FP had pulled all the pins out of Mary’s hair and one side was falling down. She had bites and bruises all over her neck, her shoulders. I could see the outline of FP’s teeth at the base of her neck.

“Are you okay?” I took her hand. She had marks on her arms, bruises from the force of FP’s fingers.

“I’ve never been better, Allie cat.” She smiled, and pulled me into her arms. Then it was the three of us, all together, kissing and touching and just lost in a maelstrom of drunken lust. It was the first time we had ever made love, all together. The only time.

When it was over, Mary curled up on top of the tomb and passed out asleep. FP went to pick her up. “We’ve got to sneak her inside to her room.”

At that moment, I doubled over, vomiting. The alcohol had finally caught up with me and I was sick as a dog. “I need to get home.”

“I can’t take you home like this. Your father will kill you.” FP looked over at Mary.“I’ll take you back to my house and you can sleep it off. We’ll get you back home before dawn.”

"He picked me up and carried me to the car. I barely remember the drive, but FP was wasted as hell and it’s a miracle that he didn’t kill us both. So, FP was going to drop me off at his house and then go back for Mary. But that’s not what happened.

"Fred Andrews had played that night at the party, too, with his band, the Fred Heads. His band loaded up all the equipment, his and ours, and took it back to the cabin. When they were done, he came back to Thornhill and went looking for Mary as soon as he came back.

"He found her in the mausoleum, passed out on the marble tomb. Poor stupid Fred, who had been hopelessly in love with her forever, thought he understood exactly what happened. He saw her torn dress and bruises and bite marks and assumed the worst. He loaded her into his car and drove to the police station.

"He raised hell. He insisted that the cops track down FP and make him pay. FP and I were asleep in bed at his house when the cops burst in and dragged him down to the station. I followed them, and told them that they didn’t know what had happened. That what we had done was consensual.

"Mary finally woke up. She told Sheriff Baker that she’d had a lot to drink and she didn’t remember anything after the gig. I told them exactly what happened, and so did FP. But your dad was still under arrest when Mary’s parents arrived at the station.

"I told her mother exactly what had happened and that bitch slapped me right across the face. She called me a whore and a liar and told me that I would burn in hell forever. She told the sheriff that if anyone breathed a word of the story, she’d ruin them. The Blossoms yanked Mary out of the station without another word.

"FP and I went back to his house and said our goodbyes. He loaded up his car and drove to Ithaca. My parents dropped me off at the train station and by dinner that night, I was in New York City.

"Six weeks later, I started throwing up. The pregnancy test was positive. I called FP at Cornell. He offered to wire me some money to take care of it, to have an abortion. I was so pissed off that I hung up on him.

"I didn’t go to the abortion clinic. I finished out the summer internship, and then I started school. I went back to Riverdale for Thanksgiving. I was five months pregnant, but my family just made jokes about how the dining hall at Columbia must be too good and I needed to slow down. I made jokes about gaining the freshman fifteen.

"FP was home for Thanksgiving, too. I called his house and came around. He was never there. He didn’t return my calls. I wasn’t an idiot. I knew if he wanted to see me, he would have been on my front porch the second he heard I was home. We were over.

"I met some friends at Pop's. Hermione and Hiram were so happy to be together, since she’d gone to UCLA and he was up in New Haven. Fred looked like he wanted to shoot himself, hunched over in the corner of the booth with the saddest face you’ve ever seen. Then FP walked in.

Fred jumped out of the booth and walked up to FP. “Get out of here.”

“Fuck off, Fred.”

“Simmer down, boys,” said Pop. “This is a family place.”

“I can’t believe that you’d show your face in here after what you did to Mary!”

“I didn’t do anything to Mary that she didn’t want me to do,” said FP.

Fred’s face twisted. “You’re a liar.”

“Think what you want.” FP tried to walk by him, but Fred grabbed his arm.

“I want to take this outside.”

FP raised his eyebrows. “You really want me to pound you into the dirt?”

“I don’t think that’s how this is going to go.”

“Fine. It’s your funeral.” FP pushed Fred out the door and they headed outside.

Hermione turned to Hiram. “You need to stop this. Fred is going to get hurt.”

“Fred could use a little pounding,” said Hiram. “He’s too soft. He needs a good beating. Otherwise, he’ll never be a real man.”

Hermione shot him an angry look. “I’m really disappointed in you, Hiram.”

“I never could see what you saw in him.” He reached out and played with her hair. “But the better man won, after all.”

“You can be such a dick,” she hissed. She slid out of the booth and went after them.

I followed her, and we stood outside watching as Fred and FP pounded the hell out of each other. It wasn’t a fair fight. FP was in peak physical condition from football training, a rippling mass of muscles. Fred...wasn’t.

After a few minutes Fred was lying on the ground, panting. “I’m not done,” he gasped.

“Please stop, Fred,” said Hermione. “This isn’t solving anything.”

“He needs to pay for what he’s done to Mary!” Fred wiped the blood from his nose.

“I didn’t do anything to Mary!” FP yelled. “I’m in love with her. We made love. I didn’t rape her, you stupid fucking faggot.”

“Mary doesn’t like boys! She never did. She never would have slept with you.”

“She did, Fred.” I stepped forward. “What you’re saying, it is just not true.”

“You’re just lying to protect him,” said Fred. “You love him. You’d do anything for him.”

“I do love him, but I would never defend him if he’d hurt Mary. He didn’t do it.”

“He did hurt her!” Fred yelled. “She’s supposed to be at Princeton, studying English lit. Instead her parents have her locked up, waiting for her to have her bastard baby.”

“What?” said Hermione, her eyes wide.

“She’s pregnant. You raped her and you got her pregnant!”

“Where is she?” asked FP.

“Her parents have her locked up somewhere called the Sisters of Quiet Mercy.” Fred stood up. “She sent me a postcard, got one of the nurses to smuggle it out for her. She’s not allowed to see anyone. I’ve gone five times and they won’t let me in. I went to Thornhill, to try to reason with her parents. They told me she was dead.”

FP grabbed Fred. “Take me there. Right now.” He dragged Fred to his car and threw him in the passenger seat.

“They won’t let you see her.”

“I’m not going to fucking ask!” yelled FP.

Hermione grabbed my hand. “Let’s go get Mary.” We jumped into the back of FP’s car and slammed the doors just as he floored the gas.

FP drove like a bat out of hell. He followed Fred’s directions and we arrived at a huge, creepy looking Gothic building. FP jumped out of the car and slammed the door. He opened up the trunk and grabbed a baseball bat.

“Holy shit!” said Hermione.

We scrambled out of the car and followed FP. “Stop! We’re just going to get in trouble. They won’t let you in,” said Fred.

“Shut the fuck up, Fred.”

FP  threw open the doors and walked in. He walked right past the guard desk and slammed the bat into a glass-paneled door. He shoved his hand through, unlocked it and kept going.

“Mary!” he bellowed at the top of his lungs. He ran down the corridor, screaming her name. We ran after him, trying to keep up.

A security guard ran up to FP. He swung the bat and smacked him in the head. The guard fell onto the floor.

“He’s going to kill someone,” Fred said.

We scrambled after him. A door swung open at the end of the corridor. It was Mary, running towards us as fast as she could.

FP ran towards her and swept her up into his arms. They wrapped their arms around each other, kissing like their lives depended on it.

They broke apart. “I didn’t know where you were,” said FP. “I sent letters and they were sent back unopened. I drove to Thornhill and they wouldn’t let me in. I called over and over and they just hung up. I didn’t know where to find you.”

They kissed again, Mary’s hands cupping FP’s face. “I was here. I’ve been here the whole time, since the morning at the police station.”

FP grabbed her hand. “Marry me. I’ll take care of you.” He put his hand on her stomach. “I’ll take care of the baby.”

“It’s twins,” Mary explained. “That’s why I’m enormous.”

Another guard came around the corner, a Billy club in his hand.

“We need to leave now,” said Hermione. ”The reunion can wait!”

Mary shook her head. “I can’t. I can’t go with you.” She turned to the guard. “I’ll go back to my room. I’ll be good. Just five minutes.”

He nodded and leaned against the wall.

FP turned to look at her. “Come with me, Mary.” He held out his hand towards her.

“I need to stay. I need to repent for all of my sins. For all the things that I’ve done wrong.”

“You haven’t done anything wrong.”

Mary looked up at him, her eyes shining. “But don’t you see? What we did, that night in the mausoleum, it was sick. It was just as sick as all the other things I’ve done. I’m wrong. I was born...wrong, twisted. I’m full of sin, so sick and wrong and evil.”

“Mary, you’re perfect. There’s nothing wrong with you.”

Mary shook her head. “No. I’m full of sin. I need to get all these sins out of my head. I need to be good.”

“The only thing wrong with you is your crazy fucked up parents and being in this place,” said FP. “I love you, Mary. Just the way you are.”

“Then you’ll see me again in hell.” She stepped backwards. “I have to go. The babies are going to go to a good home, FP. The family’s wealthy, but not sick and twisted like mine. They’ll never lack for anything.”

“Stay with me and we can be a family,” said FP.

She shook her head. “You go live your dream. Don’t ever go back to Riverdale; that town is poison. Go be a football star. I’ll watch you on TV someday. I believe in you, FP.”

With that, she turned away. The guard took her arm and they disappeared through the door.

FP dropped to his knees, his head in his hands. He was sobbing, his heart completely broken.

“We need to leave." Fred tugged on FP’s arm. “Buddy, we have to go. There’s nothing else we can do.”

But it was too late. A cop ran in and tried to handcuff FP. He punched him and the policeman beat him with his club. Hermione and I screamed at him to stop, and finally he did and cuffed him. They cuffed us all too, for breaking and entering.

Outside, next to the police car, Hiram Lodge was waiting, leaning against his Porsche. “Officer, can I speak with you a minute? He extended one hand. “Hiram Lodge. Nice to meet you. I’m sure you’ve heard of Lodge Industries?”

There were a few quiet words and an exchange of cash. Hermione was removed from handcuffs. She walked over to Hiram. “Let’s go, babe,” he said.

“Not without my friends.”

“Hermione. This isn’t our problem.”

“If you want me to go with you, you’ll get them too.”

Another whispered conversation and more money changed hands. Fred and I were released from the handcuffs.

The policeman shook his head. “Not the other one. He assaulted a police officer and resisted arrest. He’s coming to jail with me.” He pushed FP into the back of the squad car and drove away.

I got into FP’s car. The keys were still in the ignition. “Hermione, I need a friend. I need to talk.”

She nodded. “Of course.” She turned to her boyfriend. “I’ll come by the house later, okay?” They kissed and he drove off.

Hermione got into the passenger seat of the Mustang and Fred climbed into the back. I drove the car down the long and winding road back towards home.

“I had this fantasy,” I said. “That when I told FP about the baby, he would be thrilled. That he would want to marry me. We’d have a big church wedding at my father’s church, at First Presbyterian. He would come to New York with me, transfer to Columbia. We could take turns taking care of our baby. We would make it work. Because we’d loved each other our whole lives. We were meant to be. You don’t live your whole life, side by side, and drift apart. He was my first love, my first kiss, my first everything. That couldn’t just mean nothing.” I swallowed hard. “But it doesn’t mean anything. He really doesn’t love me. He loves Mary.”

There was a stunned silence. “You’re pregnant too?’ said Hermione.

“Yes.”

“God, he’s such an irresponsible prick,” said Fred. “How could he be so selfish?”

“We were all hammered,” I said. “It was stupid and reckless. Now it’s too late to change any of it.”

“It’s not too late,” said Hermione. “How far along are you?”

“Five months.”

“You don’t have to have this baby. You can have an abortion. We can go to the clinic in Rockland and get this taken care of, right now. I have plenty of cash. I’ll take care of it,” said Hermione.

Fred leaned over the front seat of the Mustang. “You don’t have to do that. You could marry me. I will take care of you, give the baby a name.”

“Jesus, Fred,” said Hermione. “You don’t even like each other.”

“No, I do like her. Alice is a nice girl from a good family. She shouldn’t have to go through this. If FP won’t step up, I’ll do it. It’s the right thing to do.”

“That’s really noble, Fred,” I replied. “But I don’t think so. When I get married, I want it to be for the right reasons.”

We drove in silence to Rockland. I parked outside the clinic and we walked in. Hermione held my hand as I filled out the paperwork.

“Do you have a ride home?” the clerk asked.

“She does,” said Fred. “We will be right here, waiting, until she’s ready.”

The door opened and the nurse called my name. Terror struck my heart. “Oh god, I don’t know if can do this.”

“I’ll come with you,” said Hermione. “I’ll be right there with you.”

In the exam room, I lay back on the table and Hermione held my hand. The doctor checked me out and stood up. “It would be easier if you’d come earlier, Miss Smith. A second trimester abortion is more complicated than a first trimester.”

“Don’t make this harder on her,” said Hermione. “Just do it.”

He nodded and left the room. “I’ll just get the operating room ready.”

I put my hand over my belly. “I can feel the baby moving in there.”

“It’s not a baby,” said Hermione. “It’s the possibility of a baby.” She brushed my hair away from my face. “You’re not ready to be a mom. You’re going to go take the world by storm.”

The baby rolled over inside me. “I’m not ready to be a mom. But...this baby, it’s made of me. It’s made of FP.”

“You’re a very sensitive, dramatic person,” said Hermione. “Little miss drama queen. It’s just a minor surgical procedure and then you’ll be fine. You’ll go back to school. Your life will go on like nothing happened.”

I turned towards her. “You don’t understand how hard this is.”

Hermione raised her eyebrows. “I understand completely. I’ve been right where you are. I got through it. I don’t regret it.”

“You and Hiram?”

She shook her head. “Fred. Don’t tell him, please. It would break his heart.”

“I’m just not as strong as you.” I sat up. “I think I’ll regret this. I don’t think I can bear to do this, Hermione. I think I will regret it for the rest of my life.”

“Then let’s go.” She helped me up and we walked out. Fred stood up when we walked into the waiting room.

“You changed your mind?”

“I changed my mind. Please take me home.”

Alice finished her horrible, painful tale and Jughead took her hand.

“So you had the baby,” said Jughead. "You had my brother.”

“I did,” said Alice. “FP came down after our son was born and signed the adoption papers. I don’t remember any of it. When they took my baby away, I just...lost it. I had postpartum psychosis. Hermione Lodge and Fred Andrews were there and they helped FP take my baby away. I’ll never forgive them, never. They didn’t wait until I was better. I don’t even remember seeing my son.” Her eyes filled with tears. “All I wanted was for FP to take one look at me, and our baby, and change his mind. But he wasn’t there for me; he was only there to give his son away. I wanted him to love me the way that I loved him...but he just didn’t.”

“God, I’m sorry,” said Jughead. “I’m so sorry for what he did, Alice. I’m so sorry.”

Alice Cooper shook her head. “I don’t think I ever really got over it. Having my girls, it made up for a lot. I would die for them. I love them so much it hurts. I want to do anything I can, to keep them from getting hurt. Anything.” Her eyes filled with tears. “I don’t want some boy to break them, the way that your father broke me.”

Alice buried her head in Jughead’s chest and cried.


	19. The Kids Are Alright

_I know if I go, things would be a lot better for her  
I had things planned, but her folks wouldn't let her_

_-The Who_

When Betty woke up in the morning, Jughead was lying next to her in bed. “Good morning, Betts.”

“Good morning.”

He took her hand in his and rubbed it lightly with his thumb. "Please tell me that last night wasn’t a break up.” He tried to keep his voice even and steady.

She shook her head. “No, Juggy. It was just a fight. Couples fight. This was the first really huge argument in our relationship. It won’t be the last.” She kissed him, and it was as sweet and tender and loving as ever. What had happened last night hadn’t broken them.

Nothing had been destroyed. It was an immense relief to Jughead, to feel that tenderness again. “We shouldn’t have made love when we were so upset with each other. It was a mistake. I can’t believe I made you cry. Knowing you were so sad, it hurt me too. So much.” He buried his face in Betty’s shoulder. “I went home and cried, too.”

She wrapped her arms around him and held him close. He lay there with his head on her chest. He could hear her heart beating. She rubbed his back, over and over. He closed his eyes. He was surrounded by her warmness, her sweetness. She made him feel safe.

“I thought I’d broken our love,” Jughead said. “After last night, I thought we were done.”

“I was sad and angry. You told me you had been lying to me. I trusted you. I don’t understand why you would lie to me. I’m the one person you should never lie to, because I love you. I’m always going to be on your side. Tell me you know that.”

It was so hard to say the words. “The people in my life, who I love, usually tell me how much they love me right before they do something that hurts me.” He swallowed. “My dad tells me he loves me, and then goes on a bender and gets arrested again. My mom tells me she loves me, and then she goes away. My parents, they said "I love you" to each other every day. But they still screamed and fought and said horrible, horrible things to each other. Their fights were scary. I used to turn up the TV as loud as I could and cover JB’s ears so she wouldn’t hear.”

“That’s not us. We will never, ever be that way with each other.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Look at me, honey.” Jughead looked up at Betty. “You are not your dad. You would never, ever fight with me like that. If we have kids someday, you would never let them be scared and sad and hurt like you were. We would never act that way in our own family.”

“No. I would never do that. Never.” He said the words and knew they were true. His love for Betty, it was based on kindness and respect and caring. Jughead realized that his parents, as much as they had said they loved each other, hadn’t respected each other. He wondered if they ever had.

Betty rubbed the back of his neck. “I wish that I could just wave a magic wand and make you feel safe and warm and loved.”

“You don’t need a magic wand,” said Jughead. “Your hugs do that.”

“You can have all the hugs you need.”

Jughead sat up and leaned against her headboard. “You know, Betts, I’m pretty fucked up.”

She took his hand. “I’m fucked up too. But as my favorite writer once told me, we are not our parents.”

He sighed. “You have no idea how glad I am that we are not our parents. You really don’t understand how fucked up this whole thing is between them.”

Betty kissed the back of his hand. “Then tell me. It’s time. You need to tell me everything that you’ve been hiding. All of it. Absolutely no more secrets.”

They talked for a long time. He laid it all out there. That he'd helped cover up a murder, which definitely included his dad and probably included both of her parents. That he'd blackmailed her mom, so that she could get her meds. That he’d felt incredibly guilty kissing Veronica, even with permission. Lastly, he told her of FP and Alice. He told her that they had a brother out there, FP and Alice’s son. He told her about Mary and FP’s twins. Archie’s siblings, who he was never supposed to know about.

“Jesus, Jug. This is so much to deal with.” Betty raised her eyebrows. ”No wonder you’ve been so stressed out.”

“I think one of the things that bothers me the most is that I may have helped convict an innocent man for a murder he didn’t commit. I really don’t think Dutch Reynolds was the one who pulled the trigger.”

Betty nodded. “Yeah, it seems too nice and neat.”

“I was also really afraid to tell you about your mom and my dad having a baby together. We have an older brother out there, walking around with your DNA and mine. It’s almost too fucked up to even think about. I wasn’t sure if it would freak you out so much you wouldn’t want to be with me any more.”

“You spend a lot of time worrying that I won’t want to be with you any more.” She raised her eyebrows. “It is a recurring theme, Jug, and we should talk about it. Please.”

He bit his lip. “It’s my biggest fear, Betty. I love you with all my heart. I know what it’s like now, to have your love. I can’t go back to being without it.”

“You won’t have to. Really.” She held him tight. “I don’t know what I can do, or say, to make you believe that I love you as much as I do. I love you with all my heart. You need to trust me and believe that I mean that.”

“I’ll try.”

She kissed him. “Try really hard, Jug.”

“I will. I promise.”

“There’s something else I need for you to promise.” Her eyes were big and blue and deadly serious as she looked at him.

“Okay.” He looked in her eyes.

She stared back at him. “Can you promise me that there will be no more lies, no more secrets? I want to know the truth, even if it’s awful, even if it sucks, even if it will keep me up at night. Are we clear?”

He held up one pinky. “I pinky swear to you that I will never lie to you again or hide things from you.”

They linked pinkies and sealed it with a kiss.

“Now go home, get ready for band practice, and pick me up in an hour, Jugs.”

*****

Jughead took a shower and changed into clean clothes at home. He looked in the mirror. He still had the remnants of eyeliner under his eyes, and he couldn’t quite get it off. He combed his hair and put on his beanie. It was superstitious, and perhaps a little crazy, but he couldn’t help but feel that if he’d been wearing his normal clothes and his hat last night, the fight with Betty and the rest of the horrible things wouldn’t have happened.

He found Fred in the garage. “Thank you for talking to me last night. It really meant a lot that you would wake up in the middle of the night, just for me.”

“That’s what dads are for,” said Fred. “I will always be here for my boys.”

“You’re a great dad, Fred. I love you,” said Jughead. He’d never said it before. But it seemed like the right time.

Fred smiled widely and hugged him hard. “Oh, Jug. That’s so good to hear. Thank you, son. I love you too.” He patted his shoulder. “Are you going to be okay? You had a very rough night last night. Do you need me to stick around today?”

“No, I’m fine. I’m going to band practice with Archie and Veronica and Betty.”

“You and Betty made up? Oh, that’s good. That’s great news.” He wiped his hands with a rag. “I am planning on grilling some steaks for us tonight. Why don’t you let the gang know that I’d like you all here at seven for dinner? Hermione will be here too.”

“Sounds great. We’ll be back by seven.”

Fred rubbed his ear. “Did you get that email I forwarded? That security code from the guy at the cabin?”

Jughead checked his phone. “Yeah, I’ve got it.”

Using the cabin had been a little more complicated than Jughead had imagined. He figured that since the property belonged to Mary, then Archie, and by extension the band, could use it if they wanted. But when Archie and Jughead spoke to Fred about the cabin, it had become a lot more complicated.

Fred had arranged a meeting, with all of the parents involved, including Mary on speakerphone. They’d laid down ground rules, over how and when the band were allowed to use the cabin. No drugs, no smoking, no booze, no fooling around. Use for rehearsals, study sessions for school and approved events only. Fred had laid down the law and given a set of keys to both Hermione and Alice and the three had agreed to come by the cabin at random times to check that the rules were being followed.

Mary had notified the security company that they were allowed to use the property. The overgrown gravel road had been replaced with a nicely paved road that gave access to the old maple syrup factory. It was much less likely to, say, rip the muffler off a vintage Mustang. There was now a security gate with a keypad access code for entry.

“Yes, I got it.”

“Now, remember what I said to you kids. The cabin is Mary’s property. You be respectful and take care of the place.”

“You told us all of this already,” said Jughead.

“Well, Alice Cooper is up my ass,” said Fred. “Seriously, she has sent me thirty emails reminding me to discuss things with you like taking out the trash and how to contact the security guard if there is a problem. The woman is intense and exhausting.”

“She’s just looking out for Betty,” said Jughead. “I get it. She worries a lot.”

“Well, I hope you have a good practice. I’d love to see you guys take on a gig soon. I think you must be ready.”

“We’ll see how it goes,” said Jughead. “I’m not sure we’re ready for public consumption yet.”

Fred snapped his fingers. “Oh, I nearly forgot. I put that call in to your Spanish teacher, Mrs. Santos. Your D in that class is totally unacceptable. If you want to keep playing with the band, you need to have a C by the end of the semester.”

“I’ve been trying to get Archie to help me,” said Jughead.

“Archie has a C,” said Fred, “which I am also not thrilled about. Mrs. Santos suggested tutoring with the president of the Spanish Honor Society. So, Cheryl Blossom will be tutoring both of you, twice a week, until you have a B or better in the class.”

“Ugh.”

“Now, Jugs. She’s apparently a very good tutor.”

“She’s a very tedious human being.”

“Well, you’re not hanging out with her to be her best friend, okay? In fact, it is a good thing that you don’t like her. I won’t receive any phone calls about the two of you getting up to some monkey business.”

“I’m dating Betty. I’m not going to mess around with some other girl.”

Fred tilted his head. “Oh, really? Because Hermione and I both spent our date last night having our phones blow up with texts that my boy and her girl were making a spectacle of themselves in front of God and everybody else up at the high school.”

“It was a joke.”

“A joke that ended with you and Betty in a huge fight?” Fred frowned. “Look, you’re a very, very smart boy. But you don’t know everything. If a joke involves you putting your hands on some girl that is not your girlfriend, say no. You’ve got enough drama in your life, son. Do you need any more?”

“No.”

“Well, I hope you learned a little something from this stupidity.”

“I did.”

“Please take out that stupid earring.” Fred did a double take. “Jesus, is that Hermione’s earring in your ear?”

“Yeah, Veronica borrowed it.”

“Do you think Hermione actually gave her permission to do that?” Fred unscrewed the earring from Jughead’s ear. It hurt and he winced. “This is a Lodge family heirloom. The only reason Hermione still has this is because the jewelry belongs to the family trust and not to her. You have no business messing with this.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“Please try to use more sense, Juggy. You let those girls poke holes in your head and play dress up with you. Pull it together.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m heading to the site. I’ll see you later. Try to make smarter choices today than you did yesterday.”

*****

Jughead drove to Betty’s. She came out with her purse, a cooler and a foil wrapped plate. “I made lunch for us,” she explained, “so that we don’t have to break from rehearsal.”

“What did you make for lunch?”

“Sub sandwiches. Turkey and salami and cheese. With chips and fruit salad and the cookies.”

He kissed her. “You know, I’m going to marry you some day.”

She smiled. “Yes, you are, Jugs.” She looked in the backseat. “I think you forget Archie. We kind of need him for the band.”

“Oh shit.” He turned the car around and pulled in front of the Andrews house. “I knew I was forgetting something.”

“Hey, your ear is bleeding.”

“Fred took the stud out.”

“We should put some alcohol on it.”

In the bathroom, Betty cleaned his ear. “Do you want it to close up? Because if you want it to stay pierced then you need to put another earring in it.”

“Let it close up.”

“Okay.” She gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“So, Fred told me the earring was a family heirloom of the Lodge family,” said Jughead.

Betty nodded. “Old money equals family heirlooms.”

“Just like the Blossom family’s heirloom engagement ring. When we were at Thornhill, that old lady thought Polly had it.”

“But she didn’t,” said Polly. “Jason never gave Polly the ring.”

“So, where did it go? It is, presumably, a large and antique diamond. It wasn’t in your parent’s attic. My dad didn’t have it, hidden under his bed.”

“But your dad wouldn’t have hidden it,” said Betty. “He would have pawned it or sold it on the black market.”

“He had a lot of cash in the trailer,” said Jughead. “Quite a lot.”

“Jason meant for Polly to have that ring,” said Betty. “Now, he’s gone. He loved her, and they are having a baby. She should have her ring. He meant for her to have it.”

“We should try to find it.”

“After all this pain, it would be nice for Polly to have something of Jason’s that she can keep forever.”

“Well, there is the baby,” Jughead pointed out. “Babies are definitely forever.”

The bathroom door opened. It was Archie, with a towel around his waist. “Hey guys, is Dad home?”

“No, he left for the site.”

Archie nodded. “Okay, well can you guys clear out? I need the bathroom.”

“Sorry, sure.”

They were walking back to Jughead's room when Veronica stuck her head out of Archie’s door. “Is the coast clear?” she whispered. “I’ve been hiding in the closet for a really long time. I need to pee.”

“V?” Betty looked confused. “When did you get here?”

“She came for breakfast,” said Archie. He stepped around them to get to his door and stood in front of Veronica.

“Yes, breakfast,” said Veronica.

“Then why were you hiding in the closet?” asked Betty.

Veronica frowned. “Well-“

“I didn’t ask for Dad’s permission to have Veronica over, so I thought I’d ask him if it was okay and then she could come downstairs.” Archie smiled at Betty.

“Do you guys think we’re complete idiots?” asked Betty. “That doesn’t even make any sense. You invited Veronica over for breakfast. She somehow materialized in your room, instead of knocking on the front door like a normal person. And, of course, because you expected to have a guest for breakfast, you wrapped yourself in a towel.”

“You all need to step up your game if you’re going to sneak around,” said Jughead. “This is some seriously amateur ridiculousness.”

“Now if you want to know how to sneak around without getting caught,” said Betty, ”Jug and I, we have some experience with that.”


	20. Creep

_But I'm a creep, I'm a weirdo._  
_What the hell am I doing here?_  
_I don't belong here_

_-Radiohead_

 

In a way, Jughead Jones had been writing about the murder of Jason Blossom all his life.

When Jughead was little, life was good. His mom and dad lived in a regular house. They had enough money. He had music lessons and dental appointments. They were just like every other family.

When Jughead’s grandfather died, things went downhill fast. Parts of his life that he had always taken for granted began slipping away. Jughead’s lunch, once packed by his mom in lovingly prepared brown bags, became the free lunch for the poor kids of Riverdale. The menu was set; the free lunch was a take it or leave it proposition. It consisted of: a sandwich; a celery stick; half of an apple; and a carton of plain milk. But Jughead didn’t know that. He just knew that one day, his mom had told him to get his lunch in line at school, instead of bringing it from home.

That first day at the register, Jughead made a mistake. “No, you can’t have a chocolate milk instead of a white one. You’re one of those welfare kids,” said the lunch lady, her voice sharp.

Of course that happened in front of Jason and Cheryl Blossom, and the teasing began.

“Poor kid! Poor kid!” Jason taunted him. “Your mom’s so poor she can’t even buy your lunch!” Cheryl had joined in, laughing at him. Jughead had walked to his lunch table in silence. He’d eaten his sad school lunch, and he was still hungry. But that was it. It was what it was.

To this day, Jughead could tell you exactly who, in their class, had been a free lunch kid. In Riverdale, money was the only thing that mattered. If you didn’t have it, you didn’t matter. There were the haves and the have nots, and it mattered which you were. It directed where you sat, who your friends were, and how far out of town you were ever going to get.

The fights began at home. “Your dad was paying our bills,” Gladys screamed. “He’s gone, FP. You’re the man of the house, at long last. You need to step up and make some money!”

“I have a job!” He took a swig of beer. “You get a job, honey, instead of sitting at home on your ass all day. I’m not sure what the hell you do, because you’re sure as shit not keeping the house spotless.” He pointed at the floor. “When was the last time you dusted the damn baseboards?”

“I’m a high school dropout! We eloped and you brought me back to this shithole town when you got kicked out of Cornell. How much money do you really think I can make? Especially once you add in how much daycare costs for Forsythia? If you think we’re broke now, just wait until you see how much that costs!”

Jughead went to his room, put on his headphones, and turned up the music. At seven o'clock, he went to the dining room. Both his parents were gone and there was no note. Mom must have taken his sister with her when she left. There was no dinner, not that night. He made himself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and ate it while he watched TV.

On his twelfth birthday, he found out that they were losing the house. He’d been brought home from the hospital to this house on the day he was born. It was his Pop Pop’s house, but his family lived there too. There was plenty of room. His grandfather had his own bedroom, on the main level. He and his mom and dad lived upstairs. Later, so had his baby sister.

When he’d walked home from school that Thursday, there had been a big yellow notice on the door. He’d read it, dropped off his backpack in the kitchen, and left a note for his mom that he was headed to Archie’s.

“Do you know what a foreclosure is?” he asked Archie.

“No, but it doesn’t sound good.”

It wasn’t good. The house that he grew up in, with his blue bedroom with the stars on the ceiling, the big country kitchen and vast library, and his tree house in the back, wasn’t his anymore.

On that day, the worst day of his entire life, Jason Blossom had walked by as they were loading boxes into Dad’s car.

The next day, Jason Blossom had reveled in Jughead’s misery. “Jughead Jones is homeless!” Jason said loudly during lunch. “His mom flips burgers and his dad’s a drunk. They don’t even have a house to live in any more!”

That night, curled up in a sleeping bag on the floor of the trailer, he had plotted Jason Blossom’s death. He could be eaten by a giant tentacle monster. An alien could zap him with a ray gun and reduce him to cinders. He could fall in a volcano and be consumed by lava. He grabbed his notebook from his backpack and started writing down a list of all the ways his tormentor could meet his doom.

*****

Later that year, it was coming close to Christmas. Jughead knew the score. Anything that could be salvaged from the family budget would have to go to his baby sister. She was a little, tiny thing. The most important thing was to protect her and make her happy. She was only four and she had very low expectations. She would be happy with anything.

Mary gave him a dollar for every new book he read, so he checked out ten books at a time at the library and read them all. He had to provide an essay and talk to her about the book, to get his dollar. It was fun and he loved doing it.

The week before Christmas, he had saved thirty dollars to buy Christmas presents. After school, Mary had driven him to the mall in Rockland with Archie. The boys had been handed their shopping money and given the opportunity to go pick their own gifts.

He’d bought Jellybean a talking doll that she wanted, since she’d seen it on TV. He bought his dad a new pair of gloves. He bought earrings for his mom. He was very, very excited that they would be able to have a good Christmas.

They stopped at the food court and had hot dogs. Mary let him have three, and it was wonderful. He was comfortably full and happy.

“I nearly forgot, Jugs,” said Mary. She tucked a long lock of her red hair behind one ear. “We need to get new boots for Archie for the winter. We’re going to the shoe store.”

They went to the store. Jughead swung his feet while he sat, bored. Mary leaned down next to him and put his foot in a metal shoe sizer.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m seeing what size you need.”

“I don’t need new shoes, these are fine.”

She clucked. “Well, despite your opinion, I disagree. You need snow boots.” She picked out several boxes and Jughead tried them on. He settled on a navy blue pair that was very comfortable. Archie went with the same pair in green. She added a new pair of sneakers, too, the same Nikes that she bought for Archie. After she paid, she threw his old pair of shoes, which had been repaired with duct tape, into the garbage.

At Archie’s, Mary helped him wrap the presents for Christmas. She got out her scrapbook box and helped him make little labels for them, stamped with gold and silver stars. She used fancy scissors to make cuts in the paper. Everything looked beautiful and fancy.

He ate dinner with the Andrews family. Mary made lasagna, dripping with cheese. He ate half the pan. Fred teased him that he must be coming up on a growth spurt.

“I don’t think that’s going to happen,” said Jughead. He was, in fact, the smallest boy in his class. He and Betty Cooper were precisely the same height.

“Well, your dad is a very big man,” said Mary. “Listen to me, sweetheart. You are almost a teenager. You’re going to wake up one morning and be six feet tall.”

“I think I’ll just be small like my mom forever.”

“I just want to be taller than Dad,” said Archie. Fred grinned at him.

“You’re both going to go from little boys to huge strapping teenagers in the blink of my eye.” Mary turned to Fred. “When you take Jughead home tonight, I need you to go in and talk to FP about going into the business.”

“I think that’s something we should talk about later,” said Fred.

“If you don’t go over there and talk to him yourself, then I’ll go talk to him,” she said.

Fred pursed his lips. “Fine. I’ll take care of it.”

Jughead took a piece of garlic bread. “Why don’t you talk to my dad, Mary?”

“Don’t be silly, Juggie. I get along fine with both of your parents.”

“But you never come over to our house,” said Jughead. “Only Fred does.”

Mary smiled at Jughead. “I’m just happier at home. I’m a little shy, to be honest.”

“Is that why you are a writer? So you can have a job where you can work by yourself, and not deal with people?”

“That’s exactly why.” She leaned forward. “The worst part of my job is going on book tours. They make you stay in hotels, and talk to newspapers and TV people, and then go sign a whole lot of books for people and give a talk. Being around all those people makes me very nervous.”

“How do you feel less nervous?” asked Jughead.

She laughed. “I drink a lot.”

“Mary!” Fred said sharply.

“I’m just kidding, Jugs. I practice in front of a mirror, over and over, until I am confident that I know what I’m doing.”

“You should write books for older kids,” said Archie. “Your books are babyish.”

“Well, you’re not the target audience. They’re not for you. They’re for little girls eight to twelve.”

“I did like them when I was little,” said Archie. “But when you read them now, they seem kind of stupid.”

“Archie, don’t be rude to your mother,” said Fred.

“They’re all the same! Boy and girl twins go on an adventure, and find clues to a mystery, and then they solve it. It’s just always the same thing.”

“That’s how mysteries are. They are formulaic. You have to follow the conventions of the genre or they are not mysteries,” Mary explained. “Even if I write books for adults, or older kids, they will still have that same framework.”

“Don’t you get bored, then? Doing the same thing over and over?” asked Jughead.

Mary shook her head. “No. Imagining Josh and Jessica, and giving them a story, and seeing them have fun together, it’s my favorite thing. I love making sure they get a happy ending.”

“I like happy endings,” said Jughead. “I wish every story had one.”

That night, Fred drove Jughead home. He knocked on the trailer and FP answered it. “Hey, Fred. Thanks for bringing Jug home.”

“No problem. Look, you want to take a little walk?”

FP frowned. “Is something wrong? Is Mary okay?”

“She’s fine. Just a little man to man talk.”

FP patted Jughead’s shoulder. “You go play with your baby sister. Jellybean’s been bugging me about how she missed you.”

Jellybean, it turned out, wanted to play Barbies. So Jughead helped his sister play beauty parlor. He was twisting a doll’s hair around little pieces of dish sponge when his mom came over and grabbed his arm.

“What’s all this, Juggie?” His mom was holding the Sears bag, with the presents inside.

“It’s Christmas presents,” he said.

“Where did you get the money to buy them?” She looked angry and grabbed her cigarettes, lighting one. That was never a good sign.

“I earned the money myself, Mom.”

“By reading books with Archie’s mom?” she said, her voice cold. “You must have read a whole lot of books to afford a bag full of presents.”

“I read thirty books and I wrote thirty papers about each one for Mary. Would you like to read them?”

“No, honey. You know I’m too busy to read your stuff.” She looked down. “Forsythe Pendleton Jones the Third, what is on your feet?”

Jughead’s heart beat faster. She was angry, now, for sure. “Boots. Mary bought them for me.”

“Did you earn the money for those, too?” There was a look on her face that he didn’t understand but knew was bad.

“No.”

“So they’re charity, then.” She took a deep drag on her cigarette. “Take them off and put on your own shoes.”

“I can’t. Mary threw them away.”

She gave a bitter cackle. “Of course she did. That goddamn, busybody interfering woman.” She raised her eyebrows. “You do not belong to that woman! She is not your mother.”

“Of course not mom, she’s Archie’s mom.”

Jughead watched as his mother stomped away and out of the trailer, slamming the door hard.

Soon, there was a series of loud voices outside. His mom and his dad, screaming at each other, and real bad this time.

Jughead settled his little sister on his lap. She stuck her thumb in her mouth.

“It’s okay,” he said soothingly. “Let’s just turn on the TV and watch some cartoons, okay?” He pointed the remote at the TV and turned the volume up, as loud as it could go.

The next day, his mother brought him a bag of clothes. “You are not allowed to accept anything else from Mary Andrews. Do you understand me?”

“Yes.” She took away his new snow boots and gave him another pair. They weren’t as nice or new, but they fit. They were even a little big for him.

She had him try on what was in his closet and replace the things that were too small with things from the bag.

The next day, he wore one of his new sweaters to school. It was red, with blue patches at the elbows. Jughead thought it was a little fancy.

It happened at lunch. He was eating his sandwich when he felt a pull on his back. He looked over his shoulder. Jason Blossom was cutting a hole in the back of his sweater with a pair of scissors.

“Hey, what are you doing? Stop.”

“You’re wearing my sweater,” said Jason. “I can do whatever I want to it. It is mine.”

“It’s my sweater!” Jughead stood up and tried to walk away. He felt the scissors cut into his back and gasped. “You hurt me.”

“You’re such a pussy.” Jason shoved him. “You’re like a girl. You’re just a little, whiny, baby girl.” He grabbed Jughead’s hair, which fell just below his shoulders. ”Maybe that’s your problem. Your pretty, princess hair.”

Jason Blossom opened the scissors wide and shoved them into Jughead’s hair. There was a click and a large amount of Jughead’s hair fell to the ground.

“What is the meaning of this! Stop this instant!” The lunch lady came over and tried to get between them. But before she could grab the scissors from Jason Blossom, he had cut off more of Jughead’s hair and snipped his ear, to boot.

Later, in the principal’s office, Clifford Blossom and FP Jones screamed at each other.

“Your child is a fucking bully, just like you,” FP roared.

“You’re a filthy stinking drunk! How dare you make accusations against my son. Your son stole Jason’s belongings. When he attempted to get his property back, your son assaulted him.”

“Your son stabbed Jughead with a pair of scissors, Clifford. Are you seriously saying that was justified!”

When all the screaming was over, Jason was suspended from school for the rest of the week. Jughead was sent home for the rest of the day for stealing and had to write an essay on why stealing was wrong before he would be allowed back.

FP walked him home. “Why did you steal that little shit’s sweater?”

“I didn’t steal it. Mom gave it to me.”

“Where did your mother get Jason Blossom’s sweater?”

“In a bag of clothes that she brought home.”

The next morning, he walked to Archie’s house to see Mary.

She opened the door to his knock. “Hi, Mary.”

She gasped. “Juggie! Your hair!”

He winced. “I don’t want to talk about my hair. I need your help writing an essay, so I can go back to school.”

“Okay. Let’s have some cocoa and talk about it.”

She suggested some quotations, and they talked about the concept of the essay. He sat down and wrote one draft, which she said was good, and another, which she said was better.

When the essay was complete, he stood to go. “I should go back to school.”

“Before you go,” she said, “I’d like to help you with your hair. If you don’t mind.”

“I don’t think there’s any way to fix it. Mom said it would just have to wait until her next paycheck.”

“I can fix it at home, for free.”

“My mom doesn’t want me to take charity from you any more.”

“It’s not charity if it is free.”

She took him into the bathroom and cut his hair. She used a pair of scissors, and then an electric shaver, and when it was all done, he had very, very short hair. But it looked okay.

She looked at the gauze bandage on his ear. “I think you need to clean that ear, Juggie.”

“My dad said to leave it alone and not mess with it.”

“Just let me take a look.”

When she peeled away the gauze, she sucked in her breath. “Can you tell me how this happened?”

So he told her the story. She looked incredibly angry, her pale skin suffused with red. “That Blossom boy has mutilated you. The tip of your ear is gone!”

“It’ll be okay.”

“You’re not a goddamn lizard, Jughead, it won’t grow back!”

He’d never seen Mary Andrews angry before. He didn’t know that she could even could get mad.

“I don’t need it,” he said. “It’s okay, really.”

She raised her eyebrows. “You don’t need your ear, Jug?”

“I don’t need that part to hear. It’s extra.”

Her eyes widened and then she began to laugh. She laughed so hard she cried. “Oh, Jesus, Mary and Joseph. Jughead Jones, what the hell am I going to do with you?”

“How about you make me a sandwich and drive me to school?”

She did, of course.

That night, FP came home with a black leather briefcase. “Gladys!” he yelled.

His mother came into the living room and watched as he opened it. It was full of bundles of cash. “What did you do, FP?” Her eyes widened. “How much trouble are you in this time?”

“It’s nothing like that. This right here is a little apology from the Blossom family. Since their kid mutilated Juggy’s ear, and we could have sued them for damages, their lawyer called me and offered me a deal.”

“How much of a deal?”

“Fifty grand.”

Gladys gasped. “Fifty grand?”

“Enough to get caught up and for me to be a real partner in the construction business.”

Gladys’ smiled faded. “Did Mary have something to do with this?”

“No. Cliff’s lawyer called me at the office and I met him in town to get the cash.”

They went out to Rockland for dinner that night. His dad let him order whatever he wanted.

The next day at school, Archie handed him a white plastic grocery sack. “My mom said to give this to you.”

Jughead pulled out a small, knitted thing. He realized it was a knitted hat. There was a note attached.

_You are a king among men, Jughead Jones. Keep your head up and your crown on._

_Keep your ear covered. Every time that Blossom boy sees it, he’ll be reminded that he has power over you. Don’t let him see any weakness._

_P.S. Please try to hang on to the rest of your body parts._

So, Jughead Jones had a rich and colorful history with the Blossoms, absolutely none of it good. That being said, Jughead was none too pleased to find an unexpected visitor in the band cabin, his inner sanctum and holy of holies, one Tuesday after school. He found Cheryl Blossom, sitting at the kitchen table, eating the cookies Jughead’s girlfriend had baked just for him.


	21. Laid

_This bed is on fire with passionate love_  
_The neighbors complain about the noises above_  
_\- James_

Jughead Jones had made a commitment to Betty and their shared future. It was a strict progression, mapping out the phases of their life together. It was the most important thing in his life: to make Betty happy and stick to their plan.

Today, he kind of wanted to light the plan on fire, because the first item was to get his grades up. A D in Spanish was not good. Therefore, he was sitting in the band cabin, his favorite place in the world, with Cheryl Blossom, one of his least favorite people, while she tutored him in Spanish.

He checked the time on his cell phone. It had been precisely two minutes since he had checked the phone last time.

“Jughead, if you don’t pay attention to what I’m saying, you won’t learn anything.”

Everything about Cheryl Blossom annoyed him. Her voice; her facial expressions; and her overall bitch on wheels persona. Ugh.

“I’m sorry, can you repeat what you said?”

She sighed. “I was explaining the _nosostros_ commands. Do you know what the _nosostros_ commands are?’

“No, no, I don’t.”

She launched into the explanation for the second time. He tried to listen. Really, he tried. But this was boring as hell. However, if he didn’t get his grades up, Fred would make him leave the band. He would let down all of his friends. Most importantly, he would not be sticking to Betty's plan, and he would disappoint his girlfriend. He just couldn’t do that.

“I’m really sorry, Cheryl. I know you’re trying to help me. But I’m having trouble concentrating. Can we take a break?”

She smiled. “Sure. I can check my email and powder my nose. Can you show me the bathroom?” He led her down the hall and went back to the kitchen.

There were six oatmeal scotchies left, out of two-dozen cookies that Betty had baked for him. Had Cheryl Blossom seriously pounded eighteen cookies?

She came back and sat down. She was pale and thin and smelled strongly of mint. It was a familiar smell and the expression on her face, blank and off kilter, was familiar too. “Cheryl, are you bulimic?”

Cheryl was shocked and also really scared. Her face was a mask of fear.

“It’s okay. I won’t tell anyone other than Betty. Neither of us will tell anyone else.”

“There’s nothing to tell.” She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Don’t be crazy, you weirdo.”

“Cheryl. You ate eighteen cookies. Then you went to the bathroom and came back reeking of breath mints.” He looked at her hands. “You have calluses on your knuckles. That’s what happens when you stick your fingers down your throat, over and over. You are binging and purging.”

She shrugged. “So what? There’s no one around to stop me.”

“You mean there’s no one around to stop you, any more? Did Jason keep you from doing this to yourself?”

At the mention of her brother’s name, Cheryl Blossom dissolved into tears. Jughead was a fucking idiot.

“I’m sorry, I have zero social skills. I’m very sorry.” Jughead reached out one hand and tentatively patted her shoulder. “I wish Betty was here. She’s much better than I am at being comforting.”

“How did you know?” Cheryl looked at him, her mascara running down her cheek. “Nobody knows. Nobody knew except Jason.”

“I know what to look for because of my mom.”

She used a tissue to wipe her face. “Your mom?”

“My mother has bulimia. She gained a lot of weight when she was pregnant with my sister and it didn’t come off. She developed some extremely unhealthy behaviors to try to lose weight. We would have no food of any kind in the house, and then a lot. Lots of things seemed to trigger her and it was easier not to be tempted.”

“That’s sad.”

“It was sad, yes. I’m not sure how she’s handling it at the moment. We’re not close, right now. But yes, she made herself throw up a lot and took laxatives and it is impossible to keep that a secret in a trailer the size of a shoebox.”

“We should get back to Spanish.” Cheryl picked up her book.

“Wait, Cheryl. You need some help with this bulimia thing,” said Jughead. “You could get really sick. My mom wound up in the hospital, nearly dying. You don’t want that to happen to you.”

“There’s no one I can talk to about this.”

“You need to talk to your doctor,” said Jughead, “but there’s a free support group across the river in Greendale. My mom used to go.” He Googled for it. “It’s Thursdays at Saint Mark’s Church at seven o'clock.”

Cheryl shook her head. “I can’t go talk about this in public. If my parents found out, they would kill me.”

“Well, I’m sure this is a new concept for you, but you could lie. You’re a rich girl. Tell them you have a nail appointment or a yoga class or whatever.”

She lifted her eyebrows. “But what if someone saw me?”

“I don’t think many people from our town are going to just happen to be hanging out with the Lutherans in the next town over on a Thursday night, Cheryl.”

“I’m just too nervous to do this.” She started biting the side of her finger. Which, Jughead noticed, was already a little raw and irritated.

This was not his problem. He didn’t even like her, at all. But he had probably let her brother’s killer get away with murder. There was a karmic debt at play here. He had to do something.

“Look, Betty and I will go with you. We will take you to the first meeting and drive you home. If you really hate it, then you don’t have to go again. Betty and I will help you find something else. Okay?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“Cheryl, please.” He struggled to find the right words. “My mom nearly died. You could die. How would your mom and dad feel if you died? They’ve already lost one kid.”

Cheryl looked at him, her eyes cold. “If I died, my parents would throw a parade. They hate me.”

Jughead could hear the thudding of shoes on the metal ramp that lead to the basement entrance. “Archie is here. Just text me, if you’d like Betty and I to take you to the meeting.”

“I’ll think about it.” The teens quickly exchanged phone numbers.

Veronica and Archie walked in hand in hand. “Arch, you’re late for Spanish tutoring.”

He smiled at Veronica. “I lost track of time.”

Jughead rolled his eyes. “I bet. Come over here and learn Spanish.”

Archie sat down at the table next to Jughead. Veronica sat down as well and pulled out her Bio textbook.

Cheryl tapped her fingernails again. “So, I was explaining the _nosostros_ commands. Archie, do you know what the _nosostros_ commands are?’

*****

Betty arrived and the band got ready for rehearsal.

“Do you want to stay and listen to our new song, Cheryl?” Veronica offered. “It’s one of Archie’s originals.”

“It’s called 'Pretty Poison'.” Archie shrugged. “I’m still not sure it is really where it needs to be.”

“It’s a great song, dude,” said Jughead. “I swear you’re overthinking it.”

“Look, you’re my friends. I’m not sure you’d be honest if you really thought it sucked. I know you wouldn’t want to hurt my feelings," said Archie.

“Oh, I’ll tell you if it sucks. I don’t give a damn about your feelings. I am the perfect impartial observer.” Cheryl tilted her head and smiled.

Archie raised his eyebrows. “Okay, well I guess that solves that issue. Let’s do it.”

“One, two, three, four!” Betty banged out the intro and then they launched into it.

Archie leaned forward and began to sing.

_What we had_

_It tasted sweet_

_But it was poison_

_Pretty poison_

The song was strong and good. The band played the entire song and Cheryl clapped. “You guys are great. Seriously. Play it again.”

Cheryl took out her camera, turned it sideways and pointed it at the stage.

“Don’t record us,” said Archie. “It’s too rough.”

“Personal use only,” said Cheryl. “I just want to watch it again later.”

Archie turned to face the rest of the band. “Guys? What do you say?“

“It’s cool, Archiekins,” said Veronica.

“We’re good,” said Jughead.

“Can you send us a copy of the video?” asked Betty.

“Absolutely.”

So the band went through the song a few times, then moved on to a Ramones cover, a Nirvana song, and wrapped up with another of Archie’s original songs.

“We’re out of time, guys,” Betty announced. “Time to wrap it up.”

The band put away their instruments.

Cheryl Blossom stood next to the kitchen table, with her hands clasped. “So, I need to speak with all of you. I have something to say.”

The band gathered around.

“Look, I know I’m not your favorite person. But I am very good at organizing things. I need a distraction right now. I’m a Blossom and that name opens a lot of doors around here. So, I propose that I get in on the ground floor. I want to be your manager.”

Archie laughed. “Cheryl, we are not even remotely ready for a gig. We don’t need a manager.”

“But we do,” said Veronica. “We are ready.”

Cheryl nodded. “You guys are just as good, or better, than everyone I saw at Rockland County’s Battle of The Bands last year. You give Josie and The Pussycats a run for their money, and they are booking gigs all over the place.”

“I don’t know,” said Archie. He shook his head.

“Cheryl is perfect,” said Veronica. “She’s incredibly social media savvy. She can focus on finding us gigs and making the arrangements and we can focus on the music.”

“I won’t screw this up for you guys,” said Cheryl. “When I put my mind to something, I give it a thousand percent, all this time. You guys have talent, a lot of it. I think you’ll go far and I want to be part on board. You will elevate my personal brand and I will add my cachet to yours. Plus, I’m loaded. If you need equipment, whatever, I can front the money and be repaid when the money starts coming in.”

Archie turned to the rest of the band. “Guys?”

After a short discussion, the four of them shook hands with Cheryl, and she agreed to be the band's manager. For one fifth of the take, of anything they made.

“You know that a fifth of nothing is nothing, right?” said Jughead. "We’re good, but not that good.”

Cheryl smiled. "I have faith."

*******

Late that night, Jughead’s car was parked in front of the Cooper’s house. “You know, it just occurred to me. You have amazing rhythm, Betts. You’re a drummer. You grab the beat and you just bang it out.”

“Yeah?”

He looked over at her and smiled. “I’m your drum, baby. You just bang me like a goddamn drum.”

She slid across the seat of the car and straddled his lap. “You want me to bang you?”

“Yes, please. I mean, we should probably go inside the house first-”

She kissed him, her tongue slipping against his. He grabbed her head, deepening the kiss.

Betty pulled on his belt. He grabbed her wrist. “We’re going to get caught if we fuck in the car.”

“We haven’t yet.” She moved his hand away and pulled his zipper down.

“We’re not parking down by the maple syrup factory, Betts. We’re in front of your house.”

“This won’t take long.”

“Hey, that’s not very flattering.”

“I’ve been ready for hours. I’ve wanted to make love with you all night.” Jughead heard the crinkle of a condom wrapper. She leaned forward, and then sat back. He was inside her. “We’ve never had sex in the front seat before," Betty said, her voice breathy.

“Don’t bang into the steering wheel. It will hurt.” She began to move, up and down, and he lost all rational thought.

He wanted it deeper, faster, harder, more. He grabbed her ass in both hands and thrust upwards, harder and harder.

“Bite me, Betty, please.” She leaned forward and bit his neck, too gently. “Yes. Harder. More. Now.” She bit him, hard, just right. God, she was perfect.

“Juggy.” Her hands gripped his shoulders, hard. She was close, already. She’d been right; this wouldn’t take long.

He surged upwards, his hands tightening on her ass. “I love you. God, I love you.”

“Now please now please,” she chanted. Her body slid against his, faster and faster. She sucked on his neck and he moaned.

His body was gearing up for a climax. “I’m so close, Betts.”

She bit his ear, and followed it with a lick. It was so good, so much, so overwhelming. His climax arrived, and he cried out. Betty cried out, too. She was right there with him and it was good, so good.

After some goodnight kisses that nearly started another round of car sex, Betty went inside her house. Jughead crawled into his own bed around two in the morning. An hour later, a loud, rhythmic banging awakened him.

Sex sounds. Moans and a thumping headboard. Someone was having a very, very nice time. A very loud time.

Jughead pulled the pillow over his head and tried to go back to sleep.

******

Fred knocked on their doors at nine o'clock. “Both of you. In the kitchen. Now.”

Within minutes, Archie and Jughead were sitting at the kitchen table.

Fred, looking haggard, drank deep from a mug of coffee. “I understand that you are young men. You are not little kids. But you are also not adults. I want to give you enough freedom to spread your wings, not so much that you crash into the ground. You follow me?”

“We’re in trouble,” said Jughead.

“Not per se, but we have a...situation.” Fred rolled his shoulders. “There’s this thing, boys, called plausible deniability. It means that if I don’t know the details of what’s going on, I can pretend that it’s not going on.”

“Okay,” said Archie.

“But if you, say, have loud sex in my house at three am, waking me up, and destroying any hope of a night’s sleep, that becomes impossible. So, and I’m only going to ask this once, which one of you was so indiscreet?”

Archie looked guilty as hell. He glanced at Jughead and mouthed the word "please."

“It was me,” Jughead said quickly. "I'm sorry, it was me."

Fred looked at him sharply. “Was it? Because you and the girl next door, you seem to make a point of doing whatever you do without me hearing it. I believe, Jughead, that you understand the concept of plausible deniability.”

“If we don’t shove it in your face you can pretend that it’s not happening,” said Jughead.

“Correct. Until something happens where I am forced to acknowledge that it is happening.” Fred sipped his coffee. “Say, really early this morning, between three and six. And if it was you, Jug, then you’re grounded, for being a selfish idiot. But if you’re lying, and it was Archie, that’s worse. Because I know who Archie has been spending a lot of time with.”

“Dad-“

“Stop right there, son. Let’s just say, that if you are dating someone that it is not appropriate for you to be dating, someone we may have a familial relationship with in the near future, I don’t want to know. At all.”

“But Dad-"

“If it is happening, it needs to end. It needs to stop. Now.”

Archie's face was awful to behold. He looked like he was going to cry, throw up, or both.

“You can’t do this, Fred,” said Jughead.

“Excuse me?”

“Whatever you and Hermione have, that’s your own business. Archie and Veronica? It’s not.”

“The hell its not. When we get married, I can’t have my son and his stepsister sneaking around, having sex. That’s not how it works. It can’t happen.”

“You can ground us and take things away from us. But you can’t demand that we stop loving the people we love,” said Jughead.

“We can’t be a family if there’s... shenanigans going on,” said Fred. “You have to understand that, Jug.”

“Why do you get to decide what’s right?” Jughead lost it. “I’m sick of all of our parents! You are the ones who got to make your own choices, years ago. You got to pick who to fall in love with; what to do with your lives. Your kids? We don’t get to make any choices. Whatever you decide to do, we have no control. We all just brace for the fallout. We’re just puppets and you’re all pulling the strings!”

“I’m sorry you don’t like it, but that’s the way the world works, Jughead. You don’t get to call the shots until you are an adult!" Fred raised his voice.

“It's not right!" Jughead yelled. "You and Hermione made your decision a long time ago, not to be together. It’s not Archie’s fault that it took the two of you this long to get your shit together! You can’t just tell Archie that your love is more important than his.”

“You can’t compare an adult relationship to some teenage crush,” said Fred. “I’m sorry, but Archie, you and Veronica? It’s done. I've put my foot down and I mean it." He turned to Jughead. “As for you, Mr. Jones, if you think you can talk to me that way you are sorely mistaken. Hand over your car keys. You are grounded.”

****


	22. A Girl Like You

_I'll say anything you want to hear_  
_I'll see everything through_  
_I'll do anything I have to do_  
_Just to win the love of a girl like you_

_-The Smithereens  
_

Alice had invited Jughead and the extended Andrews family to dinner. The menu at the Coopers consisted of roasted chicken, baby potatoes, and asparagus. Betty had baked soft, fluffy biscuits and Jughead had already eaten three, laden with butter. Everything was delicious.

“So, Jughead, I understand that you have been dating my daughter,” said Hal.

Betty’s dad had just figured this out? “Yes, sir. For some time now.”

“My wife tells me that your relationship is quite serious. What are your intentions towards my daughter?” Hal raised his eyebrows and waited for a response.

“The kids are sixteen,” said Fred. “I think it’s a little premature to make a big deal out of it.”

“Our eldest daughter wasn’t much older than Betty when she made a very serious error in judgment. I believe it is a fair question,” said Hal.

“Jughead isn’t Jason Blossom, Dad,” said Betty quietly.

“I should hope not. I never approved of that...relationship and I am still deeply troubled by what has happened to my little Polly.”

“Polly is doing very well in Chicago,” said Alice. “She is happy and healthy and has a very bright future in front of her.”

“When is Polly’s baby due?” asked Fred.

“I’m expecting the call any moment now,” said Alice.

“Are you excited about becoming a grandmother? Now that you have made peace with the situation?” asked Hermione.

Alice licked her lips. “I hope that my daughter has a very easy delivery and a smooth transition to motherhood. I am looking forward to my grandchild, yes, but I am worried about Polly.”

“Polly is a strong, sweet girl,” said Hermione. “She’ll be just fine. I’m sure of it.”

Hal cleared his throat. “Jughead, I was asking about your relationship with my daughter. It is very important to me to know what your intentions are.”

“I intend to be part of your daughter’s life for a very long time, sir.”

Alice smiled at Hal. “Jughead is a very good boy. He’ll treat Betty well, I’m sure of it.”

Hal shook his head. “Well, they say blood will tell. I’m still not sure that FP’s son has any business with our daughter.”

“If you want to talk about bloodlines,” said Fred, “Juggy’s is as blue as it comes in Riverdale, Hal. You know that.”

“Judge Jones was one of the most celebrated defense lawyers in the country and the mayor of this town for years,” said Alice.

“But there’s always been that...taint around the family name," said Hal.

“You mean the murder?” said Hermione. “Well, that has nothing to do with Jughead. Or FP, for that matter.”

Jughead turned to Hermione. “What murder?”

“You don’t know?”

“No, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“FP never wanted to discuss it,” said Alice. “Perhaps it is best to just leave the past in the past.”

“Mom, what are you talking about?” asked Betty.

Fred cleared his throat. “Well, Jug, it was a horrible crime. When FP was eight, his mother was murdered. Your dad was in the room. He saw the whole thing happen. They never caught the person who did it.”

“My grandmother was murdered?”

Hermione nodded. “Yes. I remember when it happened. The whole town was in mourning and there was a witch hunt to find the killer the likes of which this town had never seen.”

“Not until now,” said Alice. “Not until the Blossom murder.”

Betty took Jughead’s hand. “How horrible. Your poor father.”

Alice shook her head. “The shock of it all nearly killed your grandfather. The Judge was never the same after that. His heart was just broken.”

“FP went wild after losing his mom,” said Fred. “He never got over it.”

“That doesn’t excuse the things he has done,” said Hal. “Tragedy is no excuse for the evil that man has committed.”

Jughead leaned forward. “Mr. Cooper, I love Betty very much and I don’t want to offend you. But I would appreciate it if you could not sit here and badmouth my father.”

There was a long, uncomfortable silence.

“You’re absolutely right,” said Hal. “That was not well done of me.”

“So, how about those Bulldogs, huh, Hal?” said Fred. “I’m real proud of Archie. You know he’s on varsity, even though he’s just a sophomore?”

Dinner went on and conversation went in a less stressful direction. Betty held Jughead’s hand under the table, her thumb gliding back and forth across his fingers.

This explained so many things about his dad. His dad had demons. He had been through a great deal of pain in his life. It made Jughead feel sorry for his father and glimpse why FP had made the choices he had.

He wondered if the murder was still unsolved. Had they ever caught the guy?

Alice walked around the dining room table, picking up plates. Jughead picked up an empty platter and followed her into the kitchen. “I didn’t know any of that,” he said in a low voice.

Alice sighed. “I know. I’m sorry you found out this way.”

“Did they ever catch the killer?”

She shook her head. “No, it’s still unsolved. That case went cold not long after she passed.”

“I’d like to know more about what happened.”

“The case was front page news for weeks. If you come down to my office at the _Register,_ I will help you pull up all the articles from the archives.”

“I’d like to read everything about the case.”

“I’ll help you, Jug.”

He cleared his throat. “How’s my dad? Is he doing okay?”

“FP is doing great. He’s attending a meeting a day, sometimes two. He’s really working the program and I am so proud of him. He’s living in an apartment over in Rockdale now. He would like to see you, when you are ready. That reminds me." She handed him a small keyring with two keys on it. "The gold key opens our basement door; the silver one is for FP's place." She smiled. "You have other options, Jug, if you don't want to stay with Fred Andrews any longer."

Hermione came in, carrying some empty wineglasses. “Where can I put these, Alice?”

The women began washing the dirty dishes and chatting.

Betty came in and patted Jug’s shoulder. “Lots to talk about later, for sure?” She smiled at him.

She always knew what he needed, what he was thinking. “Definitely.”

She handed him a French silk pie. “Please take that out to the dining room.”

“Looks good. You got anything for everyone else?”

She laughed, turned, and picked up a second pie. “Do I know you or what?”

He rewarded her with a kiss.

They were settled back in the dining room, enjoying pie and coffee, when Hal resumed his questions.

“So, Jughead, how are you doing in school? Do you get good grades?”

“Jughead should be on the honor roll this semester, if he can pull up his Spanish grade," said Fred.

Alice shook her head. “You have to be on the honor roll if you want to get into Yale, Jughead.”

“I’m not planning on going to Yale.”

Alice turned to him, eyes wide. “But you must! Your grandfather was a Whiffenpoof! He was very disappointed that FP chose Cornell. The Jones men have gone to Yale for over a hundred years. I believe your great-grandfather was the first man at Yale to earn a Ph.D. In Latin, if I’m not mistaken. He made his fortune in timber, though.”

“What the heck is a Whiffenpoof?” asked Archie.

“A very famous singing group,” said Fred.

“Brilliant and musical, that’s what the Jones men were known for. The Judge loved music, too.” Alice turned to Jughead. “You know, your great-grandfather had the first Steinway piano in Rockland County. Everyone came out to watch it being delivered into the house. My grandmother told me that story.”

“I learned to play piano on that Steinway,” sad Jughead. “It was in the conservatory.”

“I remember playing hide and seek in there,” said Betty. “With all those chairs and bookcases and plants.”

“You always hid under the piano and it was always the first place I looked.” Jughead smiled at her and she tightened her hand around his.

“It’s a beautiful house,” said Fred. “The grandest house in Riverdale, in my opinion. Thornhill is a little Gothic for my taste. But the old Jones place, with those Palladian windows and marble columns, is gorgeous.”

“It’s back on the market,” said Alice.

“It’s a beautiful house,” said Hermione. “Someone very lucky will buy that one.”

“It’ll be hard to sell,” said Hal. “Adele Muggs is the realtor. She came to our office to run an ad in the _Register_ and we were talking about it. No one needs a big house with seven bedrooms any more. Plus, she said it hasn’t been renovated at all. The house hasn’t been updated since 1920. It will need all new plumbing, electrical, everything.”

“Seven bedrooms?” said Hermione.

“Yes,” said Hal. “I think that’s what the ad said.”

“Do you happen to have a copy of the paper?” she asked. “I’d like to see the ad."

“Of course.” Hal stood up and went to fetch it.

Fred turned to Hermione. “Don’t go getting any grand ideas, now. That house sounds like a money pit. “

Archie stood up. “Thanks for dinner, Mrs. Cooper. I have plans and I need to go.”

“You’re very welcome.”

“See you at home later,” said Fred. “Curfew by one, remember?”

“Got it, Dad.” Archie waved goodbye and left.

Alice turned to Jughead. “So, have you had enough to eat? Would you like another slice of pie?”

“I would love more pie.” She served him another piece.

“So, Jughead, we would like for you to join us for church on Sunday,” said Hal.

Jughead looked over at Hal. “Church?”

“Religion is very important in our family,” said Hal. “You know, Alice’s father was the minister at First Presbyterian for many years and my father was the deacon.”

“Jughead has spent plenty of time there, Hal,” said Alice. “The Judge and Jughead sat behind us in church every Sunday for years.”

“Jug was in my Sunday School class, with Reggie and Ethel and Archie,” said Betty.

Jughead remembered. He had actually liked Sunday school. But sitting in church was boring. It had been very hard to sit still. He had spent a lot of time staring at the back of Betty Cooper’s head. He had wondered if her hair would feel as soft and silky as it looked. It had been tempting, very tempting, to reach out and grab her ponytail. But he never had.

“So you’ll come with us on Sunday?” said Hal. “We’ll have a nice supper afterwards. Alice will make a ham.”

“You should join us too, Fred,” said Alice. “It’s been some time since we saw you in a pew.”

“That's true. Well, then, I will be happy to join you for services on Sunday. Jug and I will be there, and Archie, too. If he’s free.”

Jughead hadn’t set foot in the church since his grandfather’s funeral. He remembered sitting in the pew, looking at the casket, smelling lilies. He hated the smell of lilies.

Betty touched his shoulder. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to. It’s okay.”

Jughead looked at Alice and Hal, their expressions, and knew he needed to take the path of least resistance. “I’ll go.”


	23. In Your Eyes

_In your eyes_  
_The light the heat_  
_In your eyes_  
_I am complete_  
_In your eyes_  
_I see the doorway to a thousand churches_  
_In your eyes_  
_The resolution of all the fruitless searches_

_=Peter Gabriel_

 

One Thursday morning, Cheryl texted Jughead. _"I'm ready to try the meeting. Tonight?"_

He'd nearly forgotten about the whole thing with Cheryl and her bulimia, which made him feel guilty. He spoke to Betty about the deal he had struck; he had promised they would go with her to the support meeting.

“I don’t know why we need to do this,” said Betty. “Cheryl Blossom is not one of my favorite people. She's already driving me crazy with her constant emails about promoting the band.”

“She’s not one of mine, either. But she's part of the band. She’s in trouble and I think helping her is the right thing to do.”

“Why do we need to drive her? She has a car," asked Betty.

“Driving through town in her huge red convertible isn’t conducive to keeping a low profile, Betts.”

So she had agreed, and that night they picked up Cheryl Blossom in the parking lot of Pop’s and drove to Greendale.

At the church, they followed the signs to the meeting room. It was down a long corridor, where the Sunday school classrooms were. A long table in the hallway had coffee urns and boxes of donuts.

“I don’t think that serving snacks at a meeting for people with eating disorders sends the right message,” Jughead whispered in Betty's ear.

Betty poked him in the arm. “Hush.”

They heard voices and followed them. The three of them walked into a room set up in large circle of folding chairs. The people in the room were all teenagers, and there were some familiar faces: Josie; Moose; and Ethel. There was a large banner on the wall:

ALATEEN

SUPPORT FOR CHILDREN OF ALCOHOLICS

“I’m so sorry,” said Betty. “We are are in the wrong room.”

Ethel waved one hand at them as they turned to leave.

The correct room for the eating disorder support group was two doors down. As they went to enter, Cheryl started hyperventilating. "I can’t do this. I can’t do this without JJ.” She was on the verge of tears, gasping.

Betty took her hand. “You’re not alone, Cheryl. It’ll be okay.”

“No one cares what happens to me,” Cheryl said. “No one cares except JJ.”

“I’m not your brother and I can't replace him. But I will try to help you,” said Jughead.

“So will Veronica and Archie and all of us,” said Betty. “You just need to tell us what you need and we will do all we can.”

“You’re not alone any more,” said Jughead. “None of us are. We have each other now. It's okay.”

Betty handed her a Kleenex and Cheryl pulled it together.

They all turned to go into the room.

Something held Jughead back. He touched his girlfriend on the arm. “Betts, I’ll meet the two of you in the hallway when you’re done. I think...” He swallowed. “I think I should go to that other meeting.”

She smiled and nodded, her eyes bright. “I think that’s a really good idea, Jug. I love you.”

Soon after, Jughead sat in a room with other people who knew how he felt. What it was like to be disappointed. To be hurt. To try to fix someone, who would never be fixed. To keep loving someone, even though there were a million reasons to stop.

“Hi. I’m Jughead and my dad is an alcoholic.”

****

It was Friday night and the bleachers were packed with fans watching the football game at Riverdale High.

Jughead hunched down in his coat, trying to stay warm.

“Have some cocoa, Jugs.” Hermione handed him a thermos. “It’s got little marshmallows, just how you like it.”

He sipped the hot chocolate and it helped a bit. But it was bitterly cold. “My girlfriend is going to freeze to death.”

Betty was down on the sidelines in her cheerleading outfit, rooting on the Bulldogs. The uniform wasn’t nearly warm enough on a night like this.

Alice leaned forward and spoke in his ear. “Jug, your hat is blocking my view. Can you get some action shots of Betty, please?”

He took her huge professional quality Nikon from her and took the pictures. He got some great shots of Betty: at the top of a pyramid; doing a high kick; jumping high in the air. He handed the camera back to Alice.

“These are great. You need to come work for me at the _Register_ this summer.”

“He’ll be pouring concrete on my crew, Alice,” said Fred. “You’ll have to make do with your own kid.”

“Betty’s a great writer but not a great photographer,” said Alice. “Jughead is both.”

“We’ve already got a great photographer in the family,” said Hal. “We’ll have Polly working for us when she comes home from Chicago and is back with us where she belongs.”

Riverdale scored and the crowd erupted in cheers.

“That’s how you do it!” Fred whooped. “Yeah!”

The game ended. It was a slaughter, with Riverdale beating the pants off of Greendale.

The crowd filed out of the bleachers. At the bottom, Cheryl Blossom waited for Jughead. “Hey Jug.” She was all dolled up in a red fur coat and matching earmuffs. “Do you and Betty want to come party with us? We’re heading to my place.”

“Can we bring Archie and Veronica?”

“Of course. See you there!” She waved goodbye.

Archie waited outside the girls’ locker room. There was a whole clump of guys waiting for their girlfriends to emerge after the game.  A little further down the hallway girls waited for their football player boyfriends to come out.

Finally, all of them were ready. Archie, Veronica and Betty piled into Jughead’s car and drove up the road to Thornhill.

When they arrived, the party was in full swing. They walked into a crowded room of teens.

These were faces Jughead knew. The popular kids. Some of these people had beaten him over the years. Hurt him. Made his life hell on earth. He had never been invited to a party with these people before, ever.

Cheryl clapped her hands. “Hello! Party people!” She whistled, loud, and the noise stopped. “I want to introduce all of you to the hottest, newest band to come out of Riverdale!” She pointed her hand at the four of them. The whole room turned to stare at Archie and Veronica and Betty and Jughead. “I proudly present...The Archies!”

The flat screen TV on the wall behind her came to life. It was footage Cheryl had shot at rehearsal. She had edited it so that it looked like a smooth, professional video. It was “Pretty Poison,” the song Archie had been the most nervous about performing.

Archie looked like he was going to throw up. Veronica was excited, her eyes shining. Betty looked confused. Jughead just watched the crowd.

They loved the music. Heads bobbing, feet tapping, smiles on their faces. They could feel it. The music had won them over and they were on their side.

When the video ended, the crowd went wild. “All right, man! All right,” yelled Reggie, his voice piercing. There was a lot of hooting and hollering and clapping.

Cheryl stood in front of the screen. “Pipe down, kids. Shut up!” The crowd quieted. “If you think that was great, just wait until you hear them live. As their manager, I am very excited to announce that The Archies will make their debut performance in two weeks, at Riverside’s own Sadie Hawkins dance!”

The crowd clapped again.

Cheryl smiled, her eyes full of excitement. “Follow us on Twitter! #TheArchies. You can watch more clips on Instagram. Our web store for merch will be up next week! See you in two weeks at the dance!”

Jughead and his friends were engulfed in a crowd of happy, excited kids. Fans, really. Their fans.

***

Later that night, the Cooper house was dark and quiet. Betty's mom and dad were out with Fred and Hermione and wouldn’t be back until late.

Upstairs in Betty’s bedroom, Jughead took her hand. “I feel the need to apologize in advance. I try to be a nonconformist, but some things are classics for a reason.”

Her eyes searched his. “What is it, Jugs?”

He told her what he had in mind and she smiled. “I can do that.”

Betty went into her closet and came back out in her cheerleading uniform. She’d left off the white turtleneck, so there was plenty of bare skin showing through the cuts in her top.

“God, you are so sexy.” He slid her hand up her skirt. No underwear. His heart beat faster.

“You make me feel sexy,” Betty whispered. “It’s you. Just you.”

They fell on the bed and made out. She was delicious and delightful, totally into it and him. He made her come until she was pink and rosy.

“Please,” she asked. "Now."

Jughead stood up from the bed and took her hands, pulling her up. He turned her around and unzipped her top.  Her breasts were beautiful, peaked with rosy nipples. He pulled off her top and dropped it onto the floor.

He kissed her neck. “Betty, I want you to lean over and put your hands on the table.”

Her eyebrows rose. “Lean over?”

“Please.”

She turned around and put her hands flat on her vanity table. She looked at his reflection in the wide triple mirror. “Like this?”

“Yes.”

He watched her watch him in the mirror as he pulled off his clothes. Her breath became faster as he revealed his chest, his legs, then everything else. He stood behind her, naked, looking at her.

It was electric. She was bent down before him, hands on the table and her ass in the air. Her cheerleader skirt was swinging from her motion. The pleats fluttered, moved. Her little tiny skirt, which he’d wanted to rip off her since the first time he ever saw her in it.

He came up behind her and ran his hands up her legs. He moved his fingers over her thighs, traced circles on her ass. She moaned and moved beneath him. He slipped one finger inside her, than another. He made her come with his fingers until she was panting and glowing with sweat. Then he slid inside her.

He watched them in the mirror. He looked so severe, even angry, as he pumped in and out of Betty’s body. Her eyes were closed, her mouth open. Her breasts jiggled with every thrust that he made. She was totally his, totally in the moment, swept under by him. He felt the power that he had over her. He held her in his hands, because she had given herself to him.

Her nails scraped against the surface of the desk. “Juggie. Oh god, Juggie.”

“Tell me what you want.” He didn’t even recognize his own voice. It was dark and hard and full of need.

She opened her eyes then. She met his gaze in the mirror. “Fuck me.”

“Yes,” he moaned.

“Fuck me harder.”

He did. The room was filled with the sound of their heavy breathing and the slapping sound of his body meeting hers, over and over and over.

“Don’t stop,” she said. “Fuck me, fuck me harder. Never stop.”

She came hard, screaming. He let go and joined her. It was the best, deepest, orgasm he’d ever had. It was almost painfully intense. He gasped for air, overwhelmed.

It was only when they were lying in bed together that the enormity of his mistake hit him. Lost in living out his sexual fantasy, lost in Betty, he had forgotten to use a condom. Completely lost in the moment, they had made a mistake.


	24. Nothing Else Matters

_Trust I seek and I find in you_  
_Every day for us something new_  
_Open mind for a different view_  
_And nothing else matters_

_-Metallica_

Polly had her baby on a Wednesday at four o’clock in the morning in Chicago. Helen Lodge called the Coopers with the news. She offered plane tickets to come out, for all of them, and Jughead too. Alice refused, saying she would buy her own. Hal wasn’t available; the paper was working a big story about a proposed power station that had a lot of residents up in arms. But Jughead accepted Helen’s offer. Betty wanted him to go.

It was Jughead’s first time on an airplane. He loved everything about flying. The view from the windows; free snacks and drinks; and Betty’s head on his shoulder as she slept through the flight.

A limousine picked them up at the airport and took them to Helen Lodge’s townhouse. It was immense, nearly an entire city block of cut granite and steel. The butler showed them into a large sitting room. It was filled with heavy brocade furniture, oil paintings and immense crystal chandeliers.

The first person to greet them was Veronica. “Hey guys!”

“V? What are you doing here?” Jughead was shocked.

“I heard there was a party with all my friends and I didn’t want to miss it.”

Betty hugged Veronica. “Yay!”

Aunt Helen came in and greeted Alice. “Are you excited to be a grandmother?”

Alice frowned. “It doesn't feel quite real.”

Helen laughed. “It's real. I watched an eight pound baby come out of your daughter. You’re a grandma, make no mistake about it.”

Polly was asleep, but they met the baby anyway. Helen brought him into the room in his little baby carrier. Polly had named him Ethan Jason. He was awake. He had eyes of an indeterminate shade of blue, no hair, a very red round face and looked like neither one of his parents, particularly.

Betty was afraid to hold the baby. “I have no idea what to do with one of these,” she said with a smile.

“I’ll help you, Betts.” Jughead picked up the tiny baby and settled him into his aunt’s arms. Betty quickly gained confidence and cradled the baby, smiling down at him.

When Polly came downstairs, Betty and Polly sat and held hands, while they discussed the delivery. Jughead tried to avoid listening to the gory details. He focused on the overflowing platters of tea sandwiches and cookies that Helen had set out for her guests.

“Helen, you are amazing,” said Jughead. “I thought the food at the hotel in Rockland were good. This is even better.”

“I’ll pass on your compliments to my pastry chef,” said Helen. “Her name is Lola. She’s Parisian.”

“You have a chef just for pastry?” asked Jughead.

Helen nodded.

“Man, I would like to be that rich someday.”

Alice reprimanded him. “That’s very gauche, Jughead.”

Veronica smiled. “I’d like to be that rich again, so I get where you’re coming from.”

“Maybe our band will become famous and we’ll all be millionaires,” said Betty.

“That’s the kind of pie in the sky nonsense I was afraid of when you insisted on joining Archie’s silly band,” said Alice.

“It is not impossible,” said Helen. “The twins are making quite a lot of money touring. Although not quite enough to support a lifestyle like this.”

“The twins?” asked Alice.

“Daphne and Glen, my kids. They are in a band with their friend Rex, called the Triplets.”

“We saw them play in Rockland, mom. You remember, I told you about that.” The baby began to fuss. “Would anyone else like to hold the baby?” asked Betty.

“I will,” Jughead offered. He’d had a lot of experience with Jellybean. Babies weren’t complicated at all. Feed them, hug them, and keep them clean. Easy. Adults were much more complicated.

He cradled the baby in his arms, and rocked him in the way that his baby sister had liked. Ethan seemed to enjoy it.

“You’re just adorable with that baby,” said Alice. She smiled at him, her eyes wide. “Look Betty. Jughead looks wonderful with a baby!”

“Yes, he will make an excellent father some day,” said Betty. “Many, many, many years from now.”

Helen tilted her head. “Young man, can you take off your hat?”

“I don’t like to.”

“I would like to see what you look like without it.”

“I would really prefer not to, thanks.”

Veronica pulled out her phone. “Don’t worry, Aunt Helen. I have a picture of him without it, from our school dance. Betty and I gave him a makeover.” She showed her aunt.

“My goodness,” said Helen. “You certainly did.” She walked over to him, holding her niece’s phone. ”Young man, have you ever considered modeling?”

“No more than I’ve considered a career in professional football or colonizing Mars, no.”

“Well, I think you should consider it.”

“Standing around having people take my picture is not my idea of a good time.”

Helen looked at him thoughtfully. “I have two bookings with my agency that you would perfect for. To start, you would make two hundred dollars per hour.”

His jaw dropped. “You’re kidding.”

“I am a Lodge, dear. We never, ever joke about money.”

And so Jughead Jones spent his weekend in Chicago doing a print ad for boxer shorts and posing in swim trunks for an energy drink ad. He also did a set of headshots, shot by Polly, with ample advice from Betty, Veronica and Helen herself.

"Isn't my ear a problem?" asked Jughead.

Helen smiled. "No. It helps you stand out from everyone else."

They planned to eat dinner together Sunday night, before the flight back to New York. Helen announced that Mary would arrive in time for dinner.

“Mary is coming to dinner?” asked Alice.

“Of course,” said Helen. “She was away on her book tour, but she’s back.”

Alice shifted her weight. “I haven’t seen her since she left Riverdale.”

“I know she’s looking forward to seeing you.”

Alice reached up and clutched her pearls. “May I trouble you for a glass of wine?”

Helen stood up. “Certainly.”

When Mary arrived, she enveloped Jughead into a big hug. “You became a man while I was gone!” She smiled and kissed his cheek. “I guess you couldn’t stay small forever.” She looked great. She was thinner than he remembered, with her fiery red hair cut into a bob. Her brown eyes looked at him with love.

“It’s great to see you.” He hugged her hard. “I missed you so, so much.”

She pulled away, her smile wide. “I missed you too. Missing you and Archie, that’s been the hardest part.”

“But not Fred?” Mary turned to look at Alice. Alice was holding her glass of wine, her back straight as a board.

“Fred is finding his own way now,” said Mary. “He’s back with Hermione. You remember how in love they were in high school. I’m really happy for them both.”

Veronica stood up. “This is a bit awkward, and I’m sorry. I’m Veronica Lodge. Hermione’s daughter.”

“You look just like her,” said Mary.  

“Thank God she didn’t get Hiram’s looks,” said Helen.

Mary tilted her head. “Your name is Veronica?”

She smiled. “Yes, I’m Veronica.”

“Are you Archie’s Veronica?” Mary’s brow was furrowed.

“I’m not Archie’s anything,” Veronica explained. “We very briefly dated, but Fred asked us to stop because he didn’t think it was appropriate. He and my mom are very close to getting engaged.”

Mary turned to Alice. “Did you know about this?”

“About Fred putting his foot down with Archie? Yes, he told me. I agreed, it makes the most sense.” Alice smiled. “It’s important to project the right image with your family.”

Mary turned and pointed at Betty. “Your daughter is dating FP’s son and you’ve let that continue. Why shouldn’t my son get to be with the girl he loves?”

“Archie doesn’t love me, Mrs. Andrews.” Veronica bit her thumb. “Let’s drop it, please. It is not relevant.”

“This is unacceptable.” Mary pulled out her phone. “Fred is an idiot about love. He never did get it, ever. You can't just love someone with all your heart, and then turn it off like a faucet. It doesn't work that way!”

Helen patted her arm. “Now, Mary. Let’s just have a pleasant dinner before everyone heads back to Riverdale. I’m sure you can work this out with Fred after they leave.”

“You’re right. You’re right,” said Mary. She gave Helen a quick kiss on the lips. “You’re so good for me. You always calm me down when I get wound up.” She patted Helen's cheek fondly.

Alice blinked. “Are you two... a couple?”

Helen laughed. “Well, of course. Alice has lived with me since she moved to Chicago.”

“You left Fred for a woman?” asked Alice.

“Well, obviously, yes. It took me twenty years to detangle all the nun’s reprogramming bullshit from my head, but I’m good now. I’m bisexual. I like men and women. Mostly women.” Mary raised her eyebrows. “Which should not be a huge surprise to you, Alice.”

Alice gulped her wine. “Well, I don’t even know what to say.”

“I’m very happy that you feel free to be yourself, Mary,” said Jughead.

She smiled at him. “Always be yourself, Juggie. If you don’t, it’ll just make you crazy.”

“I like that,” said Betty. “That seems like a good way to live your life.”

“Living in Riverdale, it is nearly impossible to be yourself,” said Mary. “It’s full of people who want to tell you who you are, to define you by your family, where you came from. The further away from Riverdale I am, the happier I am.”

“Will you ever come home?” asked Alice.

“It’s not my home any more,” said Mary.

“You know, Mrs. Andrews, that Archie misses you very much,” said Veronica.

“I miss him too, every day. But I can’t be who I am in Riverdale. When Archie graduates from high school, I hope to be a bigger part of his life.”

“But he needs you now,” said Jughead. “It hasn’t been the same since you left. He’s been really struggling to figure things out. Can’t you come and see him, just sometimes? Because it is really, really hard when your mom isn’t around.”

Mary gave him a long, searching look. “Maybe I can come to New York City. Archie and all of you can come, and we can have a good visit.”

“That sounds so nice,” said Veronica. “I think he would love that.”

After dinner, Jughead was able to speak with Mary alone. “I really, really missed you.”

She hugged him. “Oh, Jugs. I love you so much.”

“Fred told me not to ask questions, but there are some things I have to know.” He swallowed hard. “Mary, I know about you and my dad. About the babies that you had to give away.”

All the happiness fled her face. “Juggie, no. Don't.”

“I’m so sorry all that happened, Mary. I’m so sorry for what my dad did.”

Mary shook her head. “Your dad and I were crazy in love. We both ignored it, until we couldn’t any more, because it so incredibly... inconvenient. It would have rocked the boat. I was so messed up, with so many demons. Your dad was the only one who made me feel safe. He never, ever hurt me. We were just in love at the wrong time. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. We were star-crossed lovers. What we felt, it was never meant to be. It didn’t end well, for either of us. What happened, how we parted, it broke something in your dad. It broke something in me. It took me a long time to put the pieces back together. Your poor father never, ever has.”

“You’ve been trying to help him, all along,” said Jughead. “Fred can’t stand him. He only helped him out because of you.”

“Fred is a good man. A kind and decent man. Exactly the kind of man who would make a wonderful father, and put his children first every day, and never, ever let anyone hurt them. That’s why I married him, because I knew that is what he could give me. Fred gave me Archie, and that is the best, most priceless gift I have ever had.”

“Will you ever tell Archie?” Jughead  asked. “About your twins?”

“My babies were taken from me a very long time ago,” said Mary. “That wound is finally healed. There’s no reason for Archie to know all of these secrets. They’ll just drag him down, the way they’ve dragged you down.” She put her hand on Jughead’s shoulder. “Weren’t you happier before you knew everything? When we were all just Archie’s mom, Betty’s mom and your dad? How is any of this better, for you, now?”

“Because the truth will set you free,” said Jughead, “and lies, they’ll just bury you alive.”

“Well said, my little author.” She kissed his forehead. “Well, my not so little author.”

He turned to leave, the wheels turning in your head. “Mary, how long have you known Helen Lodge?”

“My whole life,” said Mary. “After all, we are both part of the founding families of Riverdale. We are maple syrup royalty.” She did a little curtsy and wave with her hand.

Jughead laughed. “Beautiful.”

“I was, actually, Miss Riverdale Maple Syrup 1991,” said Mary. “Alice was the runner-up. It was a bit testy there, between us, for a while.”

So, if Mary had known Helen Lodge her whole life, whom would she have called when she found herself alone and pregnant? Who would have been able to bribe her way through the doors of the asylum and whisk away a pair of babies? A set of twins who would want for nothing and be raised in the lap of luxury?

Jughead wandered through the house until he found Helen Lodge. ”Helen, can I ask you a favor? In confidence? Even from Mary?”

“That’s a tall order. I don’t keep secrets from my partner. That tends to start a whole lot of trouble.”

“Yeah, I’m learning that lesson every day.” Jughead smiled. “Helen, can I have a picture of the twins? I would like to show my dad, when he’s ready. When he’s a little more stable. I won’t ever betray Mary’s secret; Archie won’t ever know. I won’t tell him their names or where they are. I think it might help my father to know that all of his kids, we are okay.”

Helen gave him two pictures: a studio portrait of two babies, a year old, one with fiery red hair, one with dark curls. The other picture was of Glen and Daphne Lodge as teenagers, sixteen or so, posing with their guitar and drums.

As they were getting ready to leave for Riverdale, Jughead went to say goodbye to Polly. Instead, in Ethan’s nursery, he found Alice. She was holding the baby, looking down at his face. She turned towards Jughead and smiled. Her face was radiant.

She walked over to him and put her arm around him. “Isn’t he beautiful? I think he looks just like you.” She reached up on her tiptoes and kissed his lips. “I named him Adam, honey. After my father.”

Chills went down Jughead’s spine. “Mrs. Cooper, I’m Jughead. This is Polly’s baby.”

Her face completely changed. She stepped away from him, put the baby in the crib and rearranged a selection of photos that were arranged on the baby’s dresser. “All these pictures of Jason Blossom! It’s unhealthy. Polly needs to leave the past where it belongs.”

Jughead picked up the baby and walked out of the room. Next door, he found Betty and Polly sitting together on the bed. “Oh, thank you for picking up the baby!” Polly took the baby from Jughead. “It’s time for him to eat.”

"Listen, Polly. I need to say something really important. Do not ever leave the baby alone with your mother. Ever.”

The sisters exchanged a look. “Why?”

“She just had an episode. She thought I was my dad. You need to be careful with the baby.”

Betty licked her lips. “Mom started taking medication a few months ago. She’s been so much better.”

“Then maybe she’s gone off her meds. You need to find out.”

Betty turned to her sister. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to help mom.”

“Just don’t get dad involved.” Polly shuddered. “He lost his shit when he found Mom’s pills and called me in a rage. He insists that there’s nothing wrong with us that being God-fearing women can’t fix.”

Betty stroked the baby’s cheek. “Don’t worry about a thing. Just enjoy your baby. Leave Mom and Dad to me. You being far away, it is the best thing in the whole world for you.”


	25. The Killing Moon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedicated to jandjsalmon and zumpie, who wanted to read this whole fucking thing until the end.

_Fate_  
_Up against your will_  
_Through the thick and thin_  
_He will wait until_  
_You give yourself to him_

_-Echo and the Bunnymen_

It was two o’clock in the morning. As he had so many times, Jughead walked across the Cooper’s lawn. He let himself in through the basement door with the key that Alice had given him.

As soon as he closed the door, the light switched on. Betty was sitting on the sofa next to the basement door. Her cheek was bruised. She was crying. Her father’s hand was twisted in her ponytail.

“Run, Juggy,” Betty whispered.

It was only then that Jughead noticed the gun in Hal’s hand, pointed at him. Alice was crumpled on the floor nearby. Her temple was matted with blood and so was her nightgown.

Jughead was engulfed by sheer terror. He put his hands in the air. “I’ll do whatever you want. Just don’t hurt Betty.”

“You’re all disgusting,” said Hal. “Your father, my slut wife. The sins of the parents, repeated in the next generation. You’re just as evil as your father. Spreading your seed like an animal.” He threw something at Jughead.

He caught it in his hands. It was a positive pregnancy test. Holy fucking shit.

“I married a whore who couldn’t keep her legs closed,” hissed Hal. “I gave her my name, gave her legitimate children. But my blood couldn’t wash away her sins. The slut I married, she just made more whores. They’re like bitches in heat, full of unnatural lusts.”

Hal tugged at Betty’s hair again. She yelped with pain.

“It’s all my fault. I’m the one to blame.” Jughead's hands were shaking. “You’re right. I’m the one who should be punished. Let Betty go.”

“I killed the last boy. Blood will tell. Blossom blood is full of murder, of deceit. Bad blood, not fit to mix with mine. You’re no better, you Jones filth, and you will all die too.” Hal pointed the gun at Betty’s head. “Alice’s blood needs to be destroyed. The girls need to die. First Betty. Then Polly and her bastard Blossom baby.”

Alice stirred on the floor, moaning with pain. Hal turned to look at her.

Jughead grabbed Betty with one hand and ripped the basement door open with the other. He shoved her out of the door. “Run! Run as fast as you can!”

She turned back to look at him just as the gunshot exploded. Pain ripped through Jughead’s right leg and he crumpled to the ground.

Betty screamed. “No!”

He looked up at her. “Run, Betty, damn it!”

She turned and bolted across the lawn, screaming for help.

Hal rushed after her, pointing his gun at her back. Jughead grabbed him by the knees and pulled him backwards to the ground. The two struggled together and fell back into the basement.

Alice was sitting up, clutching her head. Blood flowed down the side of her face. She looked over at her husband. “I never loved you, Hal. Never. Not for one minute.”

Hal broke away from Jughead to lunge at his wife. “You fucking cunt.” He slapped her across the face.

Alice made eye contact with Jughead. She tilted her head towards the door. She was telling him to run. If he did, Hal would kill her. If he stayed, Hal would kill him- if he didn’t bleed to death first.

He needed a weapon. He turned to the fireplace and grabbed the poker.

Hal pressed the gun to the side of Alice’s head. Jughead swung the poker like a baseball bat and cracked it against the side of Hal’s head.

Hal dropped to the ground. He moaned loudly and clutched his head. The gun fell to the floor.

Jughead leaned forward and picked it up. He cradled it to his chest and then fell down. His leg wouldn't hold him up any more; it hurt so badly. There was a lot of blood. He was getting dizzy. He closed his eyes.

He felt Alice kneel down beside him. “Open your eyes, Jughead. Stay with me.” She took the gun out of his hand. “Losing you will kill your dad and Betty too!” She pressed her hand down hard on his leg. “Hold on.”

He opened his eyes. Alice was crying, her tears mixing with the blood on her face. Hal was getting up behind Alice, clutching his head. “Behind you,” he whispered. Jughead passed out just as the gunshots rang out. One, two, three.

******

It was a beautiful day for a funeral. The weather was unseasonably warm. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky as the mourners gathered at the graveside of Hal Cooper.

Jughead listened to the mourners whisper as they waited for the service to start. This was so sad for the Coopers, this tragic home invasion. How could this happen in a nice safe town like Riverdale?

Betty clutched Jughead’s hand in hers. She was too pale, too drawn. She had purple circles under her eyes. She’d spent last night in the hospital with him, sleeping in a chair. He’d been released just in time to come to the funeral.

“I’m fine,” he whispered in her ear. “You’re not getting rid of me so easily.”

She turned and gave him the ghost of a smile. “Not funny.”

The minister began the service. Jughead spaced out, watching the sky and the birds. It was a perfect day. Maybe after this they could go have a picnic.

When the service concluded, Betty helped him stand up. He adjusted the crutches under his arms. Betty and Jughead made their way slowly towards the cars at the bottom of the hill.

Betty stopped, fretting. “You’re going to fall down the hill.”

“I’m fine, Betts.”

“You’re putting too much weight on your bad leg.”

“I’m fine. Don’t worry.” But his leg hurt, a lot. The ground was wet and his footing wasn’t fantastic.

An arm came around him on one side. It was his dad, looking tired in an ill-fitting navy blue suit. “Let me help you, son.”

Archie took away his crutches and handed them to Fred. “Let’s go, Jugs.”

Supported by his best friend and his dad, Jughead made it safely down the steep hill. “I’d like to drive you to the house, son,” said FP. “I’d like a word with you.”

Betty kissed his cheek and he got into FP’s car. It was a nice sedan, a lease made possible by his new job being a mentor at an addiction center in Rockland. Helping others had helped heal Jughead’s dad in a way he’d never believed possible.

“I can't believe that Hal killed Jason Blossom,” said FP. “He told me that Alice was the one who killed the kid. I’ve seen her snap before. I know what she’s capable of. She’s crazy and nothing makes her more crazy than her babies. I figured that getting Polly pregnant was a fatal mistake for the Blossom boy.”

“So you covered up the murder to protect Alice?”

“Of course. You made it harder, Jugs. The first time with the body was complicated enough. Covering up what you unearthed, what Fred brought me, was harder.” FP shook his head. “Son, I love you more than anything in this world, but you have to stop putting your nose where it doesn’t belong. No good will come of it.”

“I think it will come in handy with a career in journalism,” said Jughead.

“I can’t argue with that. Just try not to do an investigation into the Mafia or the Yakuza or something, okay? I like you with all your limbs intact.”

“How about the Southside Serpents?” asked Jughead. “Can I dig into that story?”

“You want to know if I sent an innocent man to prison for a murder he didn’t commit?” FP snorted. “That sack of shit was far from innocent.”

“But not of murder.”

“Oh, yes he was. He was a murderer. He just didn't kill that Blossom kid.” FP coughed. “Plus, your mom fucked him a couple of years back. Gladys found out I had started things up again with Allie, and she did not take it well. She picked someone in the gang just to spite me, I guess, considering how much shit she gave me for joining.”

“I can’t believe Mom cheated on you,” said Jughead. “I mean, it is not like you’ve ever not put her needs first or anything.”

“You can’t judge me on that,” said FP. “You haven’t ever been married, Jug. Wait until you walk in my shoes and see how you act.”

“I’ve got one girl,” Jughead explained. “She’s always been the girl. She’ll always be the girl. I won’t ever give her a reason to look somewhere else.”

“Well, sometimes unexpected things happen,” said FP. “Love is a mysterious thing. The heart wants what it wants.”

“Well, the heart may want what it wants, but you should still be able to keep your dick in your pants.”

“Hey,” FP said warningly. “None of that talk to your old man.”

“You really should have looked into condoms, Dad. How many kids do you have? Five kids with three different women?”

“Six, now; still just the three women. Hell, isn’t that enough?”

Jughead put two and two together. “Alice Cooper is pregnant with your baby? Again?”

“Yes, except we’re not going to fuck it all up this time. I’m clean now; I’ve got a job and I can be a good provider. Alice is single now and on meds for her crazy, or was until I got her pregnant. She’ll be fine once the baby is born. I proposed marriage to her, but she said we had to wait an appropriate period of time to make it official."

"Oh, God. Please don't marry Betty's mom. You've already fucked up my life enough."

"Sorry, son. We've got a baby on the way and we need to do it right this time. Be happy for us. It’s the right time for us to be together.” He turned to Jughead and smiled. "Allie has always been the one. Since we were kids. It was meant to be. I played the field, like any man should, but I always thought she would be my wife someday. Soon, she will wear my ring on her finger. She will be mine, just like it should have been all along.”

Something occurred to Jughead. "Dad, do you have the ring? The Blossom diamond? Jason was going to give it to Polly, for their engagement."

"It's in the glovebox. I thought when the heat died down, and everything was settled, I would give it to Allie for her girl. But Polly went away to Chicago and she hasn't come back since. But she's here now."

Back at the Cooper house, the wake began. The rooms were full of people in black, carrying on conversations in quiet voices.There was a lot of food, tables of it, the traditional casseroles and cakes of funeral food in Riverdale.

Betty and Jughead sat in the front room on the loveseat. Alice sat on the couch, with FP beside her. No amount of makeup could hide the swelling on Alice’s face. A large part of her forehead was covered with gauze and tape.

Polly sat in an armchair holding her baby. Fred came over and spoke to Polly. They switched places, and Polly walked off towards the kitchen while Fred bounced the baby on his knee.

Archie put his hand on Jughead’s shoulder. “Hey man, is there anything you need?”

“I’d like to eat some fries at Pop's.”

Betty turned to him and smiled. The first real one, since her dad had died. “Do you always think with your stomach?”

“Hospital food sucked. I would love some real food.”

“You kids should go,” said Alice. “It’s already been a long day. Jughead shouldn't even be up and around yet. Go get something to eat and then get him back home to rest."

“Are you sure, mom?” asked Betty. “You need to rest too. All this stress, it can’t be good for the baby.”

“Absolutely. I’m in good hands.” She smiled and patted her stomach.

“I’ll take care of your mom,” FP assured her. “Go ahead and go.”

Betty helped Jughead with his crutches. Archie and Veronica joined them.

“Ready to go?” asked Veronica.

“Yes, please.”

The four of them turned to go.

The front door opened. A young man stood in the doorway. He was tall, with lanky blonde hair and a familiar looking face. His face.

Jughead sucked in his breath. “Oh my God.”

“What is it?”

"That is our brother, Betty. Right there."

"Oh my God." She walked across the room. "Adam?"

He turned and smiled. "How do you know my name?"

"I'm Betty Cooper. I think you must be my brother."

Alice got up from the sofa. Her face drained of all color.  “Adam?”

The young man turned towards her. “Alice Smith?”

She blinked. “I was. Will be. Am.”

“Do you know there are a lot of Alice Smiths in this world?” He smiled and it was Jughead's own smile.

FP came forward and stood next to Alice. “Is your name Adam Grant?”

“It is. It looks like I came to the right place.” He looked around at the mourners, many of them now staring. “Although I seem to be here at a very bad time.” He hesitated. “Should I go?”

“No, please stay,” said Alice.

“Adam, my name is FP Jones, Junior. I’m your father.” He clasped his hand on Adam's shoulder. “Nice to meet you, son. You’re a little bigger than you were the last time I saw you.”

They never made it to Tate’s. After the mourners gracefully left, the family gathered together around the kitchen table. Jughead ate plate after plate of desserts and casseroles, while he watched the spectacle of Adam’s reappearance unfold.

Adam met his siblings: Polly; Betty; and Jughead. He held his baby nephew, Ethan. FP promised to bring Jellybean to visit him in New York City at the earliest opportunity, just as soon as he worked out a new custody arrangement with Gladys.

“So, what do you do?” Veronica asked him.

“I’m a medical student. I’m a third year resident in psychiatry at Bellevue,” Adam said earnestly. “I only have one more year to go.”

Jughead started laughing uncontrollably. “Oh Adam, we need you in this family. You have no idea.”

That night, Betty lay next to Jughead in his bed at home. It was good to be back in his own bed, even though everything hurt. Betty gave him some more pain pills and he rested back against the pillow.

“Our brother seems like a wonderful person," said Betty.

“He does. I'm so glad that we can get to know him. It's good that he's not a secret any more. Our parents are so happy, Betty."

"I can't believe that they are having a baby. It's maybe the craziest part of all this crazy."

"I don't know what will happen to us. If they do get married, which my dad really wants to happen, things will get so weird."

Betty kissed him. "Whatever happens, it's just a few more years of drama."

He reached out and ran his hand through her hair. “I can't wait for our life together to begin, outside of this town.”

She held his hand and kissed his palm. “We have a plan, Jughead Jones. Just stick to the plan and we will be golden.”

“New York, college, church wedding.” He rested his head on her shoulder.

“Grad school, bestsellers, _New York Times_. Children.”

“Oh, we’re doing that?” asked Jughead.

“Yeah.” She kissed him on his forehead.

“Cool.” He closed his eyes. “You’ll have to teach them to bake cookies.”

“Absolutely.”

“Especially the oatmeal scotchies.”

“Pinky promise.”

Betty and Jughead linked their pinky fingers and reaffirmed their plan.

_The End_


	26. Epilogue-Mommy's Little Monster

_Flash Forward- Spring, Senior Year_

 

The band cabin was as hot as hell. What appeared to be the entire student body of Riverdale High was crammed into the space in front of the stage.

Jughead put down his bass and pulled his sodden shirt over his head. With a swing of his arm, he tossed it into the crowd.

“You’re so fucking hot!” yelled someone. A crowd of cheers went up.

“Thanks girls and guys, but I’m taken,” Jughead said into his mic.

Archie took off his shirt, too. His hair was absolutely soaked with sweat. He threw it into the crowd, causing a commotion. Someone caught it with a cheer.

“That one’s available, ladies,” Veronica said into her microphone. “The line to ride the ginger stallion starts by the merch table. Speaking of which, pick up a band t-shirt or buy our CD. We need college money.”

Jughead spied a set of waving hands in the back of the room. Cheryl was manning the merch table, making her presence known. She could move more t-shirts and CD’s than anyone else. She wouldn't take no for an answer and could talk anyone into anything.

“One, two, three, four!” Betty yelled into her microphone. She slammed her drumsticks down, opening their next song, and the rest of them joined in. Jughead’s bass line and Veronica’s synth joined the beat that Betty was hammering out. They were absolutely in sync, so tight.

Archie fucking yowled into the mic and then began to sing.

 _Mommy's little monster dropped out of school,_  
_Mommy's little monster broke all the rules._  
_He loves to go out drinking with the boys,_  
_He loves to go out and make some noise._

The crowd was on fire. They jumped up and down, screaming the words along with the band. This was the last song of the night, the last song that they always did. Every kid at Riverdale knew the words. They were stoked up on adrenaline, and energy, and the joy of being young and alive _._

Along the back wall of the cabin, Jughead saw a flame. It was his dad, holding up a lighter. Alice lifted up her cell phone, the screen glowing. Fred looked up, laughed, and did the same. Hermione raised her lit phone and Mary did too. They were all wearing band t-shirts with "The Archies" written in black block letters. They formed a little pool of light, their proud parents.

It was a good moment. Nearly everyone Jughead loved was in this room. They were all healthy, happy. Things were better than they had ever been. He and Betty were golden. The band had given them the status of high school gods. They fucking owned this town.

He couldn’t wait to hit New York in five months and leave it all behind.

 

_Flash Forward_

Jughead hated television appearances. If Betty didn’t insist that he do them, he’d be at home right now, either writing or unpacking more junk in their new apartment. They had moved from a crappy apartment in Brooklyn to an only slightly less crappy apartment in Manhattan. He supposed it was progress, but it was hard to tell when he was living in a large pile of cardboard boxes. Betty was away on assignment, so there wasn’t much motivation to unpack at the moment.

If he gave half of his attention to the interviewer, he could still think about the novel he was currently working on. It required the barest intellectual effort to please these talking head media monkeys.

“So, Mr. Jones. What inspired you to write your number one best seller, _Bizarre Love Triangle_?”

Jughead smiled. “Let’s just say, I have a very vivid imagination.”

“What do you say to your critics? The plot of your novel has been called overhanded and implausible.”

He shrugged. “I’m laughing all the way to the bank. The critics can say whatever they want.”

“There are rumors that your book is being adapted into a television series.”

“I can’t comment on that at this time.”

“You’ve attained quite a following on social media. You are the most frequently re-tweeted author on Twitter right now. How do you feel about that?”

“I post things on Twitter to amuse my girlfriend, my siblings, and my closest friends. We’re all over the place, so it is the easiest way to stay in touch. Entertaining other people with our tweets is merely a side effect.”

“You are famously close lipped about your personal life. Is there a reason for that?”

“Yes. My personal life is nobody’s business but my own.”

“Your tattoo has become very famous in its own right, thanks to your iconic photo shoot. Are you ever going to reveal who Juliet is?”

“You know I get this question in every interview, right?” Jughead sighed. “It’s a reference to Shakespeare. If you Google it, it should come right up.”

“Are you uncomfortable with the reminders of your underwear model past, since you are now making a name for yourself as a serious writer?”

“I let the world get a nice, long look at my junk in a pair of boxer briefs, and in return I was able to pay cold hard cash for six years of an Ivy League education. I think that’s a fair trade, don’t you?”

“If you say so, yes.” The reporter cleared her throat. “There was a recent photo posted on the social media account of your rumored girlfriend, noted investigative journalist Elizabeth Cooper. It appeared to be an engagement ring. Do you have any comment?”

“When I get married, you’ll read about it after the fact, in the _New York Times._ That was part of the plan, from the very beginning.”

****

Betty bit her thumb, frowning. “Jughead, there’s no way to write this wedding announcement that doesn’t sounds so fucking incest-ish.”

“That’s not a word, miss professional journalist.”

Betty cleared her throat. “This is a train wreck. We just can’t do the traditional format. I get tripped up on the first line. Your father is my stepfather. It sounds so, so wrong.”

“The readers are going to have to draw a little diagram on a piece of paper to figure this shit out, yeah. But it’s not really your problem, Betts.”

She rolled her shoulders. “Okay, so, Michael is your brother and my brother. How can we include him?”

“Michael is six. He doesn’t need to go in the wedding announcement, babe. Skip him.”

“What about Adam? He’s our brother, too.”

“Nope, I’d skip him.”

“Well, do we mention the twins?” She threw up her hands. “At least Polly and JB can be explained like we’re a normal family instead of the crazies we really are.”

“Fucking forget it, Betts. I’ve got it.” Jughead gave her a kiss and took the pencil and notebook from her.

_Elizabeth Diane Cooper and Forsythe Pendleton Jones III are thrilled to announce their recent marriage._

_They were married on June 12 at the First Presbyterian Church in their shared hometown of Riverdale, New York. The best man was Mr. Jones’ lifelong friend, Archibald Andrews. The matron of honor was Veronica Lodge, dear friend of the bride._

_The families of the newly wedded couple, including Mrs. Alice Smith-Jones, Mr. Forsythe Pendleton Jones Jr. and Mrs. Gladys Jones McMahon, were delighted to share the day with them._

_The bride wore Vera Wang. The groom wore dark wash Levi’s and a black t-shirt._

_The couple chose not to serve the traditional wedding cake. instead they served a lavish dessert buffet, which included the groom’s favorite cookie, oatmeal scotchies, as well as the bride’s favorite strawberry milkshake._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and sharing your comments with me! 
> 
> I wanted a little more noir in my Riverdale and this is what happened. For those you who were like "what the fuck, why so much incest?"- it's noir! Seriously, it is a noir trope. Murder; secret babies; incest. It's a thing. What I wrote is only incest adjacent. Well, mostly. Ugh, Clifford. 
> 
> if you like this, read some Raymond Chandler, watch Chinatown - you will dig it. Watch Twin Peaks, too. What I came up with is the damn Brady Bunch in comparison. 
> 
> Obviously, there are seeds for a sequel, with Jughead's family murder mystery, Cheryl's secrets, the band, and all the continued drama of their parents, the Riverdale Class of 1991. Even darker, more noir, but always a happy ending for Jughead and Betty, because I adore them. if you'd like to hear more, let me know. 
> 
> You are the wind beneath my wiiiinnnggggggss.


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